Every Breath You Take [RDJ Fanfic] - COMPLETED

Seventy One

I can feel his grip on my shoulder, his arm draped around me on the couch.  He squeezes, and I try to ignore it, and then he gives some BS excuse of needing to work in the morning, so we have to head out.  I didn't even want to be here in the first place...he drug me here, so I'm all for leaving...if I didn't know what would come later.  He's mad, probably because his friend has shown so much interest in me.  It's normal, a friendly way, but Charlie's possessive, and I know that well.  

"Come on," he ushers, standing and pulling me with him, his arm not moving as he holds onto my shoulder.

"I was talking to Adam," I remind him, shooting him a glare, and he smirks back, cool and icy as I'm used to.

"So talk to me instead," he offers, and then he says goodbye to his group and leaves the small party, leaving them all staring at their video game match on the TV.

I try to steady my racing heart as he leads us outside, but he doesn't let up on the mood.  He's silent, but slams my door closed after telling me to get in the car.  And then he drops into his seat, and I quickly text Devin letting her know he's in a mood in case she needs to intervene. 

It's been bad lately.  Bad enough to give me a bruise I'm hiding on my collar bone, and not the fun kind.  There's one I feel coming in on my shoulder now, to match, and don't remind me of the black eye I had a couple weeks ago that I thankfully was able to play off as a trip.  It's been fine...it'll be fine.  I'll go home, take a bath, take a pain killer, sleep it off.  Now to focus on getting him to just drop me off and not come in...

"You know I don't like you texting him," he tells me.  "Are you texting him?"

"No," I promise, putting my phone away.  "Just Dev."

"What the hell do you see in him?" he goes on, starting the engine.  "You're dating me, in case you forgot."

"You don't let me forget," I mumble, then quickly follow up with, "I'm just being polite with your friends."

And he looks at me, making me uncomfortable, and then quickly and quite aggressively pulls me in to kiss me, his hand tugging at my hair as he holds me against his lips.  And I grunt and protest, pushing him off.

"Stop, that hurts," I complain, and he only smirks and puts the car into gear.

"Stop being a baby. It's called passion."

"It's called abuse," I counter, and that's when he jerks the steering wheel to turn us into the street in response.

Only the loud scream of a car horn sounds and he slams on his brakes before going too far into the street.  I grab my seat in fear, heart skipping, and the other car slowly continues driving on, avoiding the almost accident.

And that's when I wake up with a gasp, eyes flying open.  I take a deep breath though, knowing how to handle these now.  They don't happen as often anymore, but I still have nightmares occasionally.  Usually when something reminds me of something he's done, which has become few an far between...but...maybe Robert's mood at dinner set me off, I don't know.

I sigh, reminding myself Robert won't do anything, it was just an argument, which he apologized for more times than necessary, and as soon as I told him I didn't like how he was holding me - made up or not - he let go.  So...maybe it's my own guilt for making it more dramatic than it needs to be, I don't know...

Weird, though...  I'm on my side, looking at the sun rising in the sky through the window.  And there's no weight on me, no warmth...and when I slip out of bed, I glance back at Robert asleep face down on his pillow, sleeping on his stomach.  The sheets cover his legs just slightly, his pajama pants for fall visible as they hang low over his hips.  His mouth's ajar as he breathes, a quiet snore audible.  It's cute, and he looks peaceful...so I don't wake him.