Roomies |E.C|

|29 - Psychotic|

*trigger warning*

|Harper|

For weeks I tried to avoid Ethan, but as I said before, you can't avoid someone you live with completely. At some point you're gonna have to use the bathroom at the same time, or go get food when they decide to as well. That's how it'd been.

Something was very different about him, though. He was even more... off. This definitely wasn't the same energetic and happy-go-lucky Ethan. He was coming home from work and leaving right back out. Then he wouldn't get back for hours and when I'd run into him, I could tell he was either fucked up (drunk and high sometimes) out of his mind or he just had this somber, vacant stare. He constantly had bags under his eyes and he didn't even watch TV anymore. I was worried, but he didn't deserve sympathy from me, so I just gave him the cold shoulder.

Not only I was giving him the cold shoulder... Alyssa was too. I ended up telling her what happened one day when we were out. She was irate and was gonna cuss him out when we got home, but I made her promise not to. I also made her promise not to tell Donny because all hell would break loose and I didn't want any more drama.

Everything was just a mess.

_

I got dressed in pajamas and threw my work clothes in my hamper. My new night routine consisted of me eating snacks and watching TV by myself when Alyssa wasn't home. I grabbed a mini pack of Oreos and some fruit punch and got comfy on the sofa. I turned on Netflix and found a movie to watch. Twenty minutes in, I heard Ethan's door open and he went into the kitchen. After a few minutes, he was still in there, but I'd finished my Oreos and wanted another snack.

I got up and went into the kitchen without making eye contact. The things I'd do for snacks. I went straight into the pantry and looked over all there was to choose from. I decided on Hot Cheetos but those were on the top shelf. I didn't know where the step ladder was, so I stretched my little arm up as high as I could, but only my fingertips were grazing the bag. I hopped a few times and ended up pushing them further into the pantry. Fuck.

I huffed and was about to say fuck it, but Ethan took matters into his own hands. As he was reaching for the bag, his shirt rode up at the bottom, revealing a huge purple bruise on his right side.

I gasped quietly, "Ethan?"

"Huh?" He looked confused, probably because I was actually speaking to him. He held the Cheetos in my direction but I wasn't focused on them anymore. I took the chips and set them on the counter. I grazed my hand over where I saw the bruise and he jumped just a little before grabbing my wrist. "What're you doing?"

"Lift up your shirt, Ethan..."

He let go of my wrist and stepped back a bit with knitted brows, "Why?"

I lifted his shirt up myself and saw that it wasn't only one bruise and that some looked older than the others, "That's why! Who did this to you?"

"It's nothing," He yanked his shirt back down and brushed past me, "I fell at work messing around on a board."

"You fell? Fell on what, a baseball bat?" I questioned sarcastically as I followed him into his room, "And multiple times this week? Those aren't all fresh."