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don't judge me [ fic ] 
2nd-Nov-2012 10:00 pm
actions speak louder than words
(originally a scenario posted to crazy-more-than-ever via tumblr)

when he's abusive

gd&you | pg, 1068w, au
in the end, they're all lies.




loving him is like driving a new maserati down a dead-end street
faster than the wind, passionate as sin ending so suddenly

RED/TAYLOR SWIFT


where r u?

Miserably, you gaze at the text on the LCD of your iPhone— one of the miscellany of gifts ihe's given you since you became a couple. The same message has been sent multiple times so far, because you hadn't replied within the last five minutes.

Sighing heavily, you type your response: getting groceries so calm down kk?

Scarcely a minute passes before your phone buzzes again. You place the eggs back on the shelf, knowing he'll be peeved if you don't answer back immediately.

why didnt you tell me before?

Ugh. Do you really need to ask his permission to do anything, anytime? For the remainder of the trip, you ignore your phone completely and focus your energy on shopping. Only when you've finally packed the food into the trunk of the car do you scan over the nineteen new messages you've received since:

whats with this hesitation?

can I really believe you when you act so suspicious in this way


That's it, you've had enough. Furiously, you dial his number and impatiently listen to the ring on the other end of the line. Unsurprisingly, you don't have to wait very long.

"_____-ah," he begins in a low voice, but you're quick to cut him off.

"Jiyong, why are you doing this?" you cry suddenly, on the verge of tears. Of all places to succumb to your emotions, you want it to be here the least. However, you feel that you're at your breaking point; if you go on like this you won't be able to stand it.

"I was about to ask the same," he says evenly, not an edge of sympathy in his tone. "Always going out alone, never informing me of anything. What am I supposed to believe?"

"It was just grocery shopping! You're being ridiculous! If you truly love me," you retort, gripping the phone in your hand until it's numb, "you'll trust me when I say that my heart is yours alone."

Jiyong chuckles humorlessly, emptily, and it dies with an echo at the end of the line. "Ironic," he muses, and you can hardly bear to hear him in such a state. "Accusing me of false affection, when in reality… it's lies, all lies, you're lying to me."

"No, I'm not—" you protest.

"Oh, don't you deny it. You're lying, lying, liar…" You hear clattering, panting, and you know he's blindly thrown something in his rage. Words elude you in your attempt to speak, and your mouth is dry.

A pause. "Jagi? Hear me out, please, I'm sorry…"

But he can't hear the sound of your breathing anymore. The conversation ends.

***

On purpose, you arrive to your apartment late. Truth be told, you don't want to face him, but you know you'll have to eventually.

Come on, you tell yourself, be strong. Sighing, you twist the doorknob and plop the groceries and your purse on the kitchen table. In the midst of the darkened room, you can make out the green-glowing numerals on the microwave: 7:15 PM.

Since you haven't eaten yet, you pull a cheap tv dinner from the freezer and tear off the wrapping. Just when you're about to heat it up, you sense a presence and hear shuffling behind you.

"Jiyong!" you gasp, backing into the counter. In the pitch, you vainly search the wall for a light switch. "Sheesh, don't sneak up on me like that. You startled me!"

"Oh really. I wonder why you're so on edge," he hisses. "A guilty conscience?"

"What?! That's ridiculous." Now he's really frightening you, though you cock your head as if you're merely puzzled. However, he sees through your veneer and calls you out on it. "Don't look at me so innocently like that. You know."

"No, I don't! Come on, let's just get past this. Alright?" you suggest, tired of this quarrel. Scheming to wrap him in a warm embrace, you step forward. Jiyong tenses noticeably at the sight of this. Before you can react, he whirls around.

In the stillness the both of you are panting roughly; there's a tenderness upon your jaw that's dully stinging. Gingerly, you press your palm onto the area and glance at a shaded mirror to your left. Blood oozes profusely from a fresh wound, trickling into your mouth.

Then reality processes, and you stare back at him in horror. Jiyong hit me, you think, Jiyong actually hit me.

"Jagi, I— I—" he stutters, firmly grasping your wrists so you can't get away. "I swear I didn't mean to hurt you, oh God, I'm so sorry—"

"How could you?" The words crumble and wither away on your tongue, because you can't trust yourself to speak. Jiyong collapses, gazing up at you pleadingly through lashes and bleached bangs.

"Forgive me, Jagi. I don't know what came over me, but it'll never happen again, never again, I promise."

"Jiyongie," you choke out his favorite pet name, and it's enough to wrack you with pathetic sobs. It's strange because you're certainly not the emotional type, yet it's all you can bear to do at present.

"I beg of you, it won't happen again. Don't cry, please—"

"Oh, Jiyong, you were right all along. I should have done everything as you'd said to, and then none of this would have happened."

"Hush. It's over now, baby." Shaking your head, you cling to his slender frame with all of your might. Lovingly, he kisses the injury as you bury your face into his t-shirt, inhaling all the uncanny sweetness of salt tears, cigarettes, and luxury cologne.

"Tell me you'll never leave me," he murmurs brokenly, voice thick with tears and exhaustion. This was undeniably rough on him, perhaps more so even than it was for you. When you say never, he holds you to him in a ball of mingled grief, running his fingers through your hair and murmuring a thousand I'm sorrys.

Even when he complains the next morning about the bloodstains on his shirt, you laugh it off as if it were nothing. Even when he strikes you again the week after, harder and more regularly as time goes by, you never really have any regrets. Because he always apologizes and you can see that he truly means it, in his heart. So long as you have such a beautiful lover, you figure you could not have been luckier.


Posted via m.livejournal.com.

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