french girl • j.jk

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07m:06s.10cs

"what the fuck?"

you didn't hear his mumble from your obnoxious hiccups.

you had been recording him throughout his whole confession. he opened up his heart to you. told you things he hadn't told anyone else. he trusted you.

he pinned you to the bed harshly and you yelped as the air was forced out of your lungs. "whf the f..."

it wasn't long before he had his hands wrapped around your neck, his tattoo of your name overlooked by his angry eyes. "how could you?!"

you tugged at his arms because unlike the other times he'd choked you, this was not in a sexual manner. he was completely blocking your airway and it fucking hurt how strong his grip on your neck was. if he kept it up for any longer, it was going to leave a bruise.

and he realized that just before it could leave a mark.

while you were busy gasping and shoving at him, he was still screaming at you. "i trusted you! did namjoon put you up to this? our fucking professor?! why would you do this to me, you whore!"

you didn't have the chance to respond before he was throwing you off the bed and onto the ground. "fucking tell me! why did you do it?!"

you held onto your throat as you stuttered in fear, "i- i'm sorry, i don't know, i-"

"bullshit! why are you still lying? WHY!"

he threw a decor vase by the side of your head, shards of glass spreading on the floor. you were still crying helpess while crawling backwards.

"this ring," he pointed at your gift to him with his finger, "it meant fucking nothing to you? trust, ayen, trust! that's what it fucking meant!"

he was huffing and panting in front of you. the sky was dark outside, and it made him look all the more terrifying.

"but i know what to do," he sinisterly smiled at you, "you love our sex, don't you? love my hands? does the ink still turn you on? LOOK AT IT!"

he shoved his tattoo in front of your eyes while you were hyperventilating. your name on it now was just an indication of how badly you fucked up by agreeing with him all this time because you thought it was the best thing to do. if anything, it was the worst mistake you'd ever made; enabling a psychopath.

he placed his knees on either side of you and began to unbuckle his belt.

"no, no," you chanted in gasps. "please! don't do this!"

"i'll take things back to how they were. you'll love me again, like you always have."

when he started to lower your jeans, it was like a switch had been flipped. you grabbed the biggest shard and stabbed his side in a moment of impulse.

there was a pause.

his hands slowly went to the wound on his skin that had already begun bleeding rapidly with your hand still attached to it. you couldn't remove your hand.

"ayen," he quietly said. his tone was back to gentle, sweet and calm. "what did you do?"

you quickly pushed him off of you before running to your phone. the smaller shards went through your socks and into your feet painfully, but you didn't take a moment to dwell on it.

you called the ambulance while he removed the glass from his abdomen.

you were strangely calm when you made the call, simply giving them instructions to your location and what had happened. you had finally lost it.

"baby? baby, are you okay?"

you didn't notice him fasten his belt while you were spacing out with the operator on the line.

"i'm okay," he whimpered.

he wasn't okay. he was pressing onto his open wound that soaked the majority of his shirt. but that wasn't the reason for why he still saw red.

you limped with him to the entrance of your campus, syncing the arrival of the ambulance. you didn't hear the sirens; your eyes were empty and unfocused, your ears buzzing and unclear.

you stayed with namjoon that night, with a significant amount of distance from him.

he had told mr. johnson about the incident the next day, and all of his plans came crashing down. he knew what would happen next, but he didn't tell you. he was hoping for the few hours that you were still on campus that it wouldn't come down to it, and with that string of hope, he stayed silent.

he didn't need to tell you though, not when you were arrested in your dorm later that day. at least his daughter would have a roommate now.

you didn't say a word throughout the whole ordeal - you were just so lost. you thought you deserved it. they wouldn't believe you if you had told them he was going to rape you. or that he tried to kill you.

because both of you were still clothed, and you had no signs of assault on you. no bruises, no handprints, no stab wounds. but he did, and he was the victim. it reminded you of a similar scenario from his past.

so you waited in a cell, waiting for the trial with the patience you never knew you had. you even forgot about it on the second day, because it wouldn't matter. you had no way out.

you were completely and utterly fucked, and for the first time in your life, jail looked a lot more peaceful than it did before. away from responsibilities, toxicity, love.

maybe it was better this way, and you had a feeling vanessa would agree.