lip ft. trauma
Blake whimpered and curled up in a tighter ball than she already was, biting her lip to the point of blood to keep quiet as the storm outside raged. She hated this feeling, hated the fear turning her blood to ice in her veins, the unpredictability of the storms she’d once been fond of.
She learned to hate them because of the way they made him feel. And she knew he’d take it out on her, more so if she reacted, which is why she bit down on her lip as another clap of thunder reverberated throughout the room that felt smaller and smaller every time. A small sound of distress left her mouth when she felt a large soft hand brush up against her back and when it stopped she knew, she just knew, that this was not going to end well.
He’d heard her, and he thought she was reacting to him and not to the storm.
He’d been more irrational than usual lately, and as the bed shifted and she felt his hand close around her shoulder and turn her towards him. Fear made its home in the pit of her stomach, and all her nightmares flashed behind her eyes, everyone of them more dreadful than the last, and everyone of them a real possibility. She dared to open her eyes and all she saw was blue.
She heard the blue call out to her, calling her a disgrace, weak, burdensome.
She fought the losing battle against crying.
And once that first tear left her eyes, she knew she lost, she’d lost not only the battle, but most likely the war as well.
The blue turned sharp, piercing, cold, threatening. And in that moment, lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the room briefly, and those eyes narrowed when they saw something on her face. The hand on her shoulder jerked her up harshly, a startled gasp leaving her mouth.
The fingers dug into her shoulder, and if they stayed there for much longer, Blake knew that there would be a new set of crescent moon shaped scars to add to her never ending collection. Blake opened her mouth to apologize and felt his other hand reach up to hold her face. He held it tight, passing his thumb over her bottom lip, and Blake winced as she felt a dull ache. He looked at his hand and frowned, and Blake knew pain was soon to follow. Whether it was pain in her mind, or pain on her skin, she wasn’t sure, but neither was an appealing option. Thunder crashed again and blue flinched slightly at the sound and Blake felt a small spark of joy from it.
He shoved her against the headboard and Blake was unprepared enough for her full weight to land on her shoulder and wrist as she tried to keep from falling off the bed. She flinched when he reached for her, and that apparently was his tipping point.
“NO, please, I’m sorry I didn’t—”
“You didn’t mean it? Oh but darling, I rather think you did. This isn’t the first time, and I don’t know if you remember what I told you earlier about cheating on me.”
Blake winced as he yanked on her arm, dragging her out of the bed, out of the shelter of the blankets, and out of the bedroom and into the living room.
He shoved her towards the garage, and as she fought to keep her balance, Blake felt a panic seize her. She did her best to try and snuff it out, knowing if she pushed him anymore at the moment, there was a very good chance she wouldn’t survive it. And at the moment the thought crossed her head, she tripped but angled herself into the kitchen.
If she was going to go through with this harebrained plan, she needed a weapon. And the closest thing she could get to was the kitchen. Because once she was in the garage, Blake knew, she didn’t know how, but she knew this time would be different, he misinterpreted her fear as indifference, as rejection.
She wasn’t sure of the details, but there was a lethal finality to that door at the end of the hall she wasn’t willing to embrace. Not yet. She couldn’t.
She hit the floor and was slow in getting up, attempting to locate the knives she knew were on the counter. He kicked her side, scoffing when she crumpled to the floor, a rattling breath all she could say.
Not the curses that flitted across her mind, not the damnation she so dearly wished upon him.
“I’m sorry!”
Oh how she hated the way she felt her lip burn as the spoken words opened her wound further, how the taste of blood she knew far too well reminded her of why she was doing what she was.
No matter how much like death she looked, she didn’t want it to claim her.
Blake Belladonna did not want to die.
She grit her teeth as her stomach rolled, bile rising in her throat as she made a dive for the cutlery block and grabbed one of the larger knives, turning towards him with defiance in her eyes and a strength she hadn’t felt in almost a year.
But all he did was walk towards her with a slow clap, a deadly smirk on his face.
“What are you going to do with that darling? Put it down before you hurt yourself, you’re already bleeding, let’s go get you patched up alright?”
She almost believed him, almost believed she was an idiot and had sealed her fate for nothing and that there was nothing she could do but then she noticed his posture.
He was frightened. Of her.
Granted, she had a knife and most would be insane to not be frightened, but him? Frightened?
She felt a deep sense of satisfaction.
“No, I’m not putting it down. I’m going to walk out of this house, get in my car and drive away, and you’re not going to stop me.”
Thunder crashed and Blake flinched slightly, and she hoped his blue eye didn’t catch that. When he made no snide comment about it, she knew she was in the clear. At least for that little mistake. She walked towards him, forcing herself to take one step after the other and made her way past him, holding him at bay with the knife, inching her way backwards towards the door.
She made it to the front door and grabbed her keys, then unlocked the front door.
He hadn’t moved at all.
Blake’s face scrunched in confusion, but she didn’t dwell on it. She opened the door and her ears rang with the sound of the rain.
She took one last look at where he was standing, and made a break for her car. She managed to unlock it and climb in, close the door behind her and had just taken a shaky inhale when a hand slammed into her window.
She frantically tried to lock the car and felt a brief wave of relief when she did, but then was quickly overtaken with panic when he began to beat at the window, fully intent on breaking it.
There was a loud noise, it was so so loud, and it wasn’t the rain, but she wasn’t sure where it was coming from.
Blake turned the keys in the ignition and prayed to whoever was out there that could hear her for the car to start.
It didn’t. Bile rose in her throat and she started losing sight as she tried again. And again. And again.
And it wasn’t working.
Her window shattered and she brought her hands to her face to try and shield herself from the glass, but pieces made their way into her hair and others scraped their way down her face as the noise grew louder, deafening.
She squeezed her eyes shut as the glass rained down around her, a prayer to whatever gods could hear, to whatever gods would care—
’Gods, give me something. Send me a savior, an angel, a reason.’
He grabbed the knife and yanked it out of her hand, forcing her fingers and wrist to bend in ways unnatural. She felt a crack and tried to yank her hand free.
“This, this is all because you were a disobedient fucking slut Blake. This is all because you couldn’t keep your promise.”
And then there was fire. Her left side screamed in protest and the loud noise was all she could hear.
Then there she was, her savior, her angel.
Her eyes followed the gold as she tried to focus, trying her best to block out the noise. Where was it coming from? Why wouldn’t it stop? Was it the storm?
Gold turned towards her and all Blake saw were her red eyes. She knew she should be scared, but there was a fury, a almost righteous fury in those eyes, and she knew she would follow them anywhere, heaven or hell, moon and planets beyond, wherever.
Gold reached inside the window and unlocked the door before enveloping her.
Blake was soaked in seconds, but she didn’t care. Her savior looked at her with a caring so foreign, it was something she’d only read about, dreamed of.
The saviors hand touched her lip, and came away red, but instead of feeling pain, Blake only felt the sensation of her hand on her mouth.
Her saviors hands weren’t soft, they were harder, worked, strong.
She vaguely recognized that she was being moved, saw the red and blue of what could have been help, but she didn’t need them.
Her savior was real, and she was holding her.
Blake leaned into her and let herself unroll, the loud noise had finally stopped, and she was feeling sleepy.
Her angel looked at her and her eyes grew wide. Blake could tell she was saying something, but what she didn’t know.
All she knew was that her eyes were lilac, wait, hadn’t they been red?
With a shaky hand she reached up and touched her saviors face, just to make sure she was real. Her hand passed over her mouth as she slipped off, and Blake’s last clear thought was
’Her lips are soft as honey’
Later Blake would learn that the loud noise that she kept hearing were her own terrorized agony-filled screams.
Yang let out a scream as the woman in her arms passed out. She screamed for the paramedics to save her, she screamed in anger at the woman’s condition, she screamed when the police came and said that there was no man matching her description in the driveway of the home.
She screamed until her lips were chapped and her voice long gone. She screamed in fear.
Later Yang would learn she had been a prime suspect for the woman’s condition, but her own angry, panic-fueled screams had told police and first responders a different story.
Though she knew next to nothing about the woman she had risked so much to save, she knew she would risk everything again just to see her smile, just to hear her talk-
To see those golden eyes again, but instead of terrified, unfocused, haunted-
Happy, aware, loved.