Almost Unreal | Violentine One-Shots

Over The Counter | Hurt

The front door slams open and Clementine sits up in bed.

She swears to herself as she sits up against the headboard, straining her hearing as she tilts her head towards the bedroom door she purposefully left ajar. Downstairs she hears a chair scraping against the floor, and she swears once again as she throws the covers off her body.

Clementine takes the stairs two at a time, slowing down as she reaches the landing. She glances at the hallway and the front door, which is still wide open. Rain pours from the night sky and splatters into the porch and the on the doormat, Violet's keys are left in the lock.

Clementine rubs her temples with her fingers in small circles as she removes the keys and slams the door shut.

From inside the living room, she hears a series of drunken mumbles and slurs. Clementine feels a familiar sensation build inside her as she moves into the heart of their home. It's a mixture of sadness and despair, the need to push the blonde away because it hurts too much for Clementine to see her like this yet being hopelessly in love with Violet. Loving her yet hating the way that Violet's destroying herself. That will never stop hurting.

She huffs as she leans against the doorway of the living room, the lights are off, and the room is dark, but Clementine can make out Violet's silhouette leaning against the arm of the sofa, she's struggling with an object hidden in the blackness of the room. The brunette exhales deeply as she flicks on the light switch, watching as Violet winces at the light and lifts her hand to block her eyes from the brightness.

"What's happening, Violet?" questions Clementine as she grits her teeth. Violet squints at her girlfriend as she fumbles her fingers across the bottle of whiskey that lies in her lap. Clementine thought she'd got rid of all the alcohol inside the house, Violet must have bought some when she went out.

"I just went out for a bit," says Violet with a slur as she struggles to twist the cap of the liquor bottle open. Clementine makes her way to Violet's side and takes the whiskey from her hands; Violet tightens her grip before a wave of nausea hits her, and she releases the bottle from her fingers.

"Violet, you're a mess," states Clementine as she runs her hands through her hair, she closes her eyes and holds her breath. "Why are you still doing this to yourself?"

"Doing what?" counters Violet as she hiccups and clasps her hand around her mouth.

"Drinking yourself to death every night," mutters Clementine as she takes in Violet's mannerisms. She stinks of vodka and her eyes flit speedily around the room as if she can't take in all the details in her home fast enough. A suspicion raises in the back of Clementine's mind, "are you still taking drugs too?" The brunette questions as she watches Violet shiver.

There's nothing but the sound of hammering rain for a while and Violet answers Clementine's question with a shrug.

"You know not that long ago Violet, you would have told me everything." Clementine frowns as she looks at the blonde. She's a shadow of her former self, just a carbon copy of that loving girl Clementine lost so long ago. Maybe the old Violet is still at the back of her mind, waiting patiently for respite from the drugs and chaos.

Violet wrinkles her nose and hiccups once more. Her shivering increased to a tremble that causes Violet's shoulders to shake. Instinctively she draws her knees up onto the sofa and under her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs as she rocks slightly.

Clementine catches the ripped fabric on her denim jeans and notes the blood oozing from a late cut just below her knee. The brunette sighs and stands wandering to the first aid box in the kitchen cabinets.

As she looks back into the room she thinks for a second, she sees the old Violet sitting there, beautiful and attentive, emerald eyes always watching Clementine. Keeping an eye on her and keeping her safe. As Clementine readjusts to the light of the living room, she sees that the old Violet's gone now. She's been gone for a long time; she's left a husk in her place. A shadow of the real Violet, her appearance serving as a constant reminder of what once was.