TomTord Oneshots [[SLOW UPDATES]]

18 - Abusive Drunk AU

Tord POV

I sat on the couch, legs pulled to my chest. Today was one of the days that Tom decided to go drinking with his 'old friends' from highschool. They were a bad influence on him, making him take extra shots, buying him drinks. When drunk, you won't stop drinking, especially if people give alcohol to you for free.

Every night that he'd get overly drunk, he'd come home. Not the ideal 'pass-out-drunk-and-have-your-boyfriend-carry-you-to-bed-and-fall-asleep-with-him' scenario, more like the 'come-home-drunk-and-abuse-your-boyfriend' type scenario.

He'd come home drunk, and either beat me, or rape me. Depending on whichever he felt like. Sometimes it's even both. By the end of the night, he leave me covered in bruises and cuts that'll start to fade, but by the next time he goes out drinking, he'll just renew them all.

I buried my head in my knees, imagining all the horrible things that he's going to do when he gets back. And it's not like it's his fault. On days that he doesn't drink, or at least not as heavily, he doesn't hurt me. He doesn't remember doing it at all. I have to hide bruises from my abuser so he won't ask questions.

I look at the door. Running away isn't a viable option. I still love him, but not this him. I sigh, laying down on the couch, waiting for the inevitable.

Hours pass. Maybe he just isn't coming? Maybe he got too drunk and passed out at the bar? Just as my hopes got up, I hear the rough jiggling of the doorknob.

Maybe not.

The door flies open, and an angry, drunk Tom comes toward me, giving me a blow to the face to start with. I hiss, holding the soon-to-be bruise on my chin. This was going to be a long night.

Timeskip

I wake up, Tom's arms still around my smaller frame. I can't believe he still has the audacity to cuddle with me after all that he's done. I shift in his arms, trying to get out so I can get to the bathroom to treat my neglected wounds. He groans, but opens his arms slightly to let me get up.

I run to the bathroom, worried about what the mirror will reveal. Shit. There was a long cut above my right eyebrow, going horizontally across my forehead, and a large purple bruise on my jaw. I groan, pulling out the rubbing alcohol and cotton balls, treating my face, and the rest of the cuts.

I sigh, slowly leaving the bathroom. This is going to be a bitch to explain. I'd rather not tell Tom that he's the source of my bruises and cuts, because he's still my boyfriend, and I still love him. I'd hate for him to feel guilty, but I desperately want him to stop.

Making my way to the living room, sitting on the couch, and resting my head on the arm of the couch. I start to think of all the excuses I could use to explain the bruises, but before I can get half an excuse into my mind, I hear Tom enter the room.

"Tired?" He asks, taking a seat on the couch next to me. He downs a pill dry, probably an asprin. "..Yeah. I didn't sleep much last night." He looks me in the eye, and I look away as soon as possible."Uh.. Tord..?" He asks, genuinely confused as to why I'm avoiding him.

He puts a hand on my shoulder, "Tord..?" He sighs as I don't look at him, and he places a hand underneath my chin, pulling my head to face him. He pauses, and sighs with sympathy. "Tord.. what happened?" He asks, concerned. If only he knew. "Nothing. Accident. Fell down the stairs." I answer. Tom pauses, giving me his best bitchface, "We don't have stairs." I fumble for a new excuse, "Uh, the apartment stairs outside. Fell down those ones." He rolls his eyes, "Tord we live on the first floor. Tell me what's going on, please. I want to be able to help." He says, pulling me into a hug, and buring his face in my neck.

I try desprately not to cry, but my attempts are thwarted, and I feel tears begin to spill. Soon, I'm just full-on sobbing inti his hoodie. He doesn't seem to mind, rubbing circles into my back in attempt to calm me down.

Once I finish my pity party, Tom asked once again, "Who did this, Tord?" I sigh, taking up all of my courage. "..you did." I say, too quietly for him to hear. "What?" "You did.", I say louder. His expression changed from concerned, to confused, immediately.

"Tord I think I would remember if I did something like that." He answers. "You were drunk, Tom. Whenever you come back from the bar with your friends, you do this shit. I don't think I can handle it anymore, Tom." I say, tears threatening to spill once more. "Oh my god.." He whispered, Tears of his own falling. He pulls me into a hug, and we just sit there, crying.

"..Tom?" I ask, looking up from his chest. He doesn't answer. "Promise me you'll never go back to that bar with them. They're toxic, you shouldn't be near them."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"I promise."