Know Me

Chapter Five

T/W - Physical abuse (◞‸◟)

Y/N's POV

After the train had pulled away and Jungkook was out of sight I immediately tugged my phone from my pocket. I swiped it open and stared at the photo I'd just taken of the hybrid.
A slow smile filled my face as I ran my eyes over his handsome features. His dark eyes were turned down into two crescents, cheeks round and full from the colossal smile taking over his face. As I focused on his photo, I thought of the way it had felt to be hugged by him.

I had felt so safe, so warm and . . . cared for.

I sucked in a sudden deep breath as I felt my chest tighten and unbidden tears spring into my eyes. A wave of emotion gushed through me, just as it had done when I had been wrapped in Jungkook's arms.
I quickly swiped at my eyes, unable to attach words to the emotions I was feeling.

With a little smile still playing about my lips, I tapped at the screen, attaching the photo of the grinning hybrid to his contact information. The train came to a halt at my stop and I hopped off with a light spring in my step, unable to quit smiling as I walked the rest of the way home.

-

"Y/N! What the hell is this!?" My father's voice bellowed through the door of my bedroom before it was ripped open, revealing his face seething with fury.
I looked up from where I was typing at my small desk in the corner, my heartbeat suddenly thundering in my ears. Casting my eyes over him, I furtively searched for any clue for the reason behind his anger. I caught sight of a slim black tablet in his hand, his grip on it so tight the tips of his fingers were white.

Dropping my head slightly, I looked up at him over the tops of my glasses, reaching to twist my thumb ring. "What's wrong, Dad?" My voice came out small.

He slammed the tablet down onto my desk with such force that the bright screen cracked, a jagged line of discolouration now running down the middle.
I jumped in my chair, my body taken over by nervous trembling. His finger jabbed at the damaged screen, demanding I look at it.

Leaning towards it fractionally, I was able to see the familiar design of my collage website, my name in bold type across the top of the screen. With a sinking feeling coupled with rising nausea, I realised what I was looking at.

"I looked into your quarterly grade average score to monitor your progress," he said, confirming in a low voice what I had just realised. "Now . . . You are going to explain to me why I am looking at a drop in your GPA and a C minus result on your last communications test."

I swallowed dryly. I remembered the day that I had taken that test. It had been the anniversary of my mother and sister dying and I had screamed myself awake from the most visceral nightmare about them the night before. I remembered throwing up in the bathroom right before the test as the images of their faces danced before me tauntingly. I remembered having to rewrite most of my answers as my writing had been rendered illegible by the tears that had dropped incessantly from my cheeks onto the paper below.

"It's just a 0.2 drop, I'll pick it back up by the end of this month." I kept my voice low and reasonable, forcing myself to try and meet his eyes with conviction.

I felt the blow of my father's fist on the side of my face before my eyes could register the blur of movement that was his hand flying up only to come cracking down across my cheek.
My glasses were knocked from my face, clattering noisily on the wooden surface of my desk. With the side of my face screaming in white hot pain, I couldn't help the tiny whimper that slipped out.

I cursed internally, knowing from past experience that making any sound of pain triggered something in my father to hit me again. Cowering against the coming blow, I felt his knuckles collide with my jaw and I forced myself to remain silent this time.