Savior

The Boy That Blushes

“Layla!”

The second that I heard the wrath in His tone I knew that I was in for a long night. I quickly rack my brain for anything I could have done wrong in the past 24 hours as I make my way to the kitchen, but it doesn’t help. Any little thing could set Him off; burnt dinner, a bleach stain in his tee shirt, hell even if I mumbled I would get punished.

“What is it dear?” He whips around at the sound of my voice and I try not to cringe at the cold look in His cerulean eyes.

“Where the fuck is my favorite mug?” My heart drops. Shit.

“I-I-”

“I-I,” He mocks condescendingly before slamming his palm on the marble countertop, but I don’t flinch, too used to it by now, “How ‘bout you stop stuttering like an moron and actually learn how to speak?”

“I dropped it yesterday and it shattered.” I don’t mention that I dropped it because my arm was too sore to even carry a cup of coffee because of the way He twisted it behind my back for forgetting to get the mail.

“You dropped it.” His voice is eerily calm and I brace myself for whatever He is about to do.

“I’m sorry, I know you loved that mug, it was an honest-“

He swiftly turns back to the cabinets and pulls out a stack of china plates –the plates that the orphanage gave me as a house warming gift. Suddenly, He lifts his arm up only to harshly chuck the plate against the hardwood. The glass shatters loudly and this time I let out a small whimper, my heart squeezing painfully.

One by one, the gift I is destroyed by the man I love as He wears an almost bored expression. I don’t bother to try and stop him because I know it will only enrage Him more and I am just too exhausted to put up a fight anymore.

When He is done the hardwood is slightly dented from the force of His throws and the ground is littered in various sizes of shards. I find myself almost happy for a few seconds that He took his anger out on the china rather than me.

But, that happiness is wiped away immediately by His next words.

“If you’re really sorry then you will walk over here.”

“But… There is glass all over the floor?”

“Doll, you really upset me by breaking my mug. How could you do that to me? It’s like you’re completely careless when it comes to my things. If you truly loved me then you would be cautious with-“

“I do love you!” I blurt in desperation, but shut my lips when I see His jaw clench in anger. He hates when I interrupt Him.

“Then prove it.”

I plead with Him silently, but His posture remains stern and cold. He doesn’t think I love Him. I hurt Him by being careless. The only way to get past this is to prove just how much I love him.

With a large breath of air I steel myself and take a step forward, the glass immediately piercing through my soft flesh. My eyes prick with tears and I swallow a whimper as I put more pressure on my right foot while picking up my left all while feeling His satisfied eyes watching my every move…

“-la! Layla!” I practically jump out of my skin and let out a small shriek as I turn to meet Eliza’s soft eyes.

Her eyebrows furrow in apology for scaring me and I turn back around to look at the familiar looking mug I had been in the middle of washing. I place it on the drying rack softly, my shaking hands beginning to wrinkle from how long I had been standing there stuck in my reverie. A unsteady breath leaves my lips as I try to shake the images in my brain.