Make me stay

Re action of yesterday

I wake up smelling eggs and bacon. My jeans feel uncomfortable against my legs but I keep them on as I roll out of bed. I don't want to get up but I have to. It's still early and a bit cold. I grab his flannel from a chair as I enter the kitchen. 

"I took a day off. Let's hang out" he says and I wince at knowing I made him worry about me. "Can you let me see. Just to make sure you're not hurt" he adds but I just shake my head. 

"NO." 

"Rhy... this needs to be a conversation. I can't take care of you if you don't talk to me" he sighs and puts out two plates. We eat slowly, watching each other. "Please." 

"...no" I repeat but his kind eyes make me question why I'm even resisting. I know he's too good for me. I know I should jump on him and use all of his pity to make him worry, to make him care, but somehow I can't. 

I can't give myself up yet. 

"Rhyan, if you are going to sleep here then you have to comply with a few of my requests. I'm not asking you to do this to make you feel bad. It's for your sake" he tells me with the eyes of a laborador. 

"Please, no..." I plead and poke at my food. If I have one last shred of pride it's this, and he's asking me to give it up. 

"I'm worried" he coos, as if I'm his elderly grandmother refusing to see the doctor. 

"...I don't want you to see..." I mumble and tilt my face down. It's probably ugly with a fresh black eye and a bruised jaw. Nothing make-up can't fix. 

"I've seen it before, Rhyan" he reminds me. 

"Not like this" I argue with my heart in my throat and put the fork down. He looks displeased. 

"How about a trade? I get to make sure you're not hurt and you don't have to follow me to the police station to explain these bruises?" he suggests with an irritated tone. I look begginly at him but he's stiff as a statue. 

"You wouldn't" I claim but I'm not so sure. He seems to have lost his patientence for me running here whenever I get hurt. Nobody has en enough patience to deal with all your shit. One little tear slides down my face despite my resistance. 

"That's it." Jason grabs me and hauls me into the bedroom again. 

It's all a horrible re action of yesterday. He pushes me down onto the bed and pulls at my pants. With strong arms he fights them off of me and holds me down. 

I'm always the weak one. Always helpless. Always hurt. 

I whine and do my best to resist but it's futile. Suddenly he stops. 

"Let me see, Ryan" he says, waiting for my permission. I know that he's not doing this to be mean. But he wants to see and I don't want to show him. Just knowing that he could force me is enough to make my chest freeze in panic. 

"Nononono, please stop! I'll do anything! Please!" I cry and flail my arms around but he's very heavy. 

"I'll just look. I won't toutch anyhting" he promises. I try to make my body stop fighting, to tell it that Jason isn't going to hurt it. But right now it feels too much like with my boyfriend and I hate it. 

"OK, OK! Just not like this! Let me go" I yell desperately and he finally releases me. I curl up in the middle of the bed. My chest heaves in a painful speed. He reaches out a hand to touch me but I can't help but shy away from it. 

"I'm sorry, Rhy" he says and looks at me with his wonderful puppy eyes. He's so perfect and sweet as he stares, sad that he has to do this. I am too. I have use all my willpower to force myself out of the cripling position I'm curled up in. 

"Not in the bedroom" I tell him when I see that he's blocking the doorway. 

In the bathroom he closes the door but leaves it unlocked. I have to turn my back to him, which is even worse.  

"I'll just be looking" he says and squats down behind me. I feel my pride slip down with my boxers. They fall to my feet and I feel his breath against my cheeks. 

"Rhyan... sweetheart... there is a little bleeding but it's not that bad. It looks swollen too but I'm more concerned about why it's so red. Did he use anything to hit you there?" he asks and I'm about to cry. It's humiliating. 

"No, I... washed it. It's probably from me scrubbing it with soap" I mumble and I swear he can hear how embarresed I am in my voice. 

"Would you let me put some soothing lotion on it?" he asks gently. 

"No. It's fine. I don't need it" I say and reach down for my boxers. 

"I won't ask you to do anyhting else if you let me" he promises. 

"Please. You said you would just look" I whine. 

"Just a tiny bit" he says. I'm so humiliated it doesn't even matter anymore. He can see it all if he wants to! But that's a lie of course. All I want is to escape. 

"Be quick" I mutter, surrendering to his care. He rapidly gets something from the cabinet and I gasp as I feel the cool cream and his fingers against my sensetive area. It hurts a bit but he smears it on quickly and then pulls my underwear up for me. I don't turn around. He washes his hands an then softy takes my limp one in his. 

"Do you want some hot chocolate?" he asks even though it's july. I shake my head. I usually want him to make me sugary drinks but I can't think of drinking anything at the moment. Wake up! He's not going to put up with my bullshit forever. I have to do something to please him. 

"No, thank you. You don't have to take care of me. I'm fine" I mumble but it doesn't even sound convincible, just angry. Hell. 

"Don't lie. You came to me because you needed someone" he protests. He's wrong though. I don't need someone; I need him.