𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝗼𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐢𝗺𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

70, 93 ❁ 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘺𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯

∞༺♡༻✧
"𝑖𝑚 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢"
"𝑖 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦"
∞༺♡༻✧

"Okay, fuck it, I'm done trying to help you!" Corbyn yelled.
"Why do you have to yell all the time?" I asked, growing very annoyed.
"Because! You're always so fucking grumpy and miserable and when I try to help you just tell me I don't understand and then slam our bedroom door like a fucking fourteen year old girl! I'm sorry, but it's really starting to piss me off!" He screamed, his eyes filled with anger.
"You're such an asshole, Corbyn," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
"I'm an asshole? Seriously? I try so fucking hard to keep you happy, but you just fucking push me away!" he defended.
I understand where Corbyn is coming from, but I'm stuck in a place I don't know how to get out of. I've never felt this way before. I know that something's not right, I just don't know what it is. I don't understand what it is that is disrupting my happiness. There is no way that Corbyn could understand because I don't even understand myself.
"I don't know what else to do!" I yelled, tears forming over my already glassy eyes.
"Oh..I don't know! Maybe fucking talk to me and let me be there for you instead of acting like a total bitch and slamming doors in my face!" he fired back.
I'm not the hot headed type of person, but that one sent me over the edge.
"Don't call me a bitch!" I yelled, shoving him backwards.
"Then stop acting like one!"
I knew he was mad, but I definitely didn't expect him to push me back. He placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back, causing me to stumble backwards, using our buring hot stove to catch myself. I forgot the stove was on, only remembering when my hand slammed down on the surface, burning me.
I shrieked, pulling my hand into my chest and starting to cry as I bent over, just wanting the pain to stop.
It must have taken Corbyn a few seconds to realize that the stove was on because he was silent.
"Wait...oh my god, I hurt my baby, I'm so sorry!" he cried out, grabbing me and pulling me so that my hand was under the faucet.
Corbyn turned on the cold water, letting it run over my hand.
I slightly turned away from Corbyn, trying to avoid even looking at him. Tears ran down my cheeks, from the pain and from our fight.
"Baby?" he whispered, causing me to yank my hand away from him.
I continued crying, my back facing him.
"Please let me hug you," his voice cracked.
I slowly turned around to see a heartbroken looking Corbyn.
He cautiously moved towards me and pulled me into his chest, hugging me tighter than he ever has before.
"I'm sorry I pushed you, that was a dick move," he apologized.
I relaxed and cuddled into him more, tears falling onto his shirt.
"Let me see your hand."
I stuck my hand out and Corbyn gently took it in his, frowning at the burn on my palm.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, lightly kissing the back of my hand.
"I'm sorry I take everything out on you," I sobbed, clinging to him.
"Baby, it's okay. I'm sorry I yelled, I just get frustrated because all I want to do is help you, but I don't know how to help you," he explained, kissing my cheek.
"I just don't understand why I'm so upset. You never understand because I don't understand myself!"
"Aw, honey. That breaks my heart, I'm so sorry. Listen, we'll get through this together, like we always do."
I looked up and let Corbyn kiss my tears away, then placed a gentle kiss on his lips.
"Okay, let me clean up your hand and then we can just go cuddle because I really want nothing more," he smiled, making me smile too.
My hand may have hurt like an absolute bitch, but his cuddles made up for it.

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𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 - 𝟯/𝟮𝟵/𝟮𝟬
𝑖 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢
∞༺♡༻✧