Michele Morrone Imagines

Michele saves you from an abusive boyfriend.

You didn't flinch, you didn't wince as he was unloading his rage onto your body. He would slap, he would punch and he would kick. In the beginning you would beg for him to quit hurting you, the tears would stream down your face. He would eventually stop, kick your lifeless body one last time. You would lie on the cold wooden floor, unable to move. The tears wouldn't stop falling, his existence made you sick to your stomach. He was cruel, he was disgusting and you hated his guts. Even though you hated him for his unforgivable actions, it was difficult to leave him. He had you in his strong grip, he controlled you and possessed you. It had become hard to covered the bruises. He wasn't an addict, he wasn't an alcoholic. He was a man, who thought that he could do whatever he wanted to. He was big boss and you were there to please him. You had thought about poisoning his food, suffocating him in his sleep, you wanted him dead. You weren't able to recognise yourself anymore. You used to be independent, strong, stubborn and most importantly, full of life. The woman standing in front of the mirror was someone else, someone you couldn't recognise. Your eyes were dull, your body was pale and covered in bruises, your hair looked as lifeless as you felt. Dark rings were evident under your eyes. You didn't have more tears left to cry. Your gaze landed on your lips, they were chapped. He had broken you and turned you into a robot. Your role in his life was to obey him, be quiet, prepare food and serve as his punching bag. 

He rarely allowed you to go to work, you worked in the movie industry as an assistant to the director. Your main tasks were to assure that the actors were prepared for their scenes, make sure that they looked as the director wanted them to look. You enjoyed working, but after Grant would have his way with you, you weren't in the right state of mind to attend work. Fucking Grant. You wished death upon him. You were his prisoner, he had taken everything from you, except of one thing - your imagination. You would picture yourself with a gun, holding it against his head. You imagined him begging for his life, pleading. You would pull the trigger without thinking twice. All you aspired to see was red, the blood streaming down his face. Red, red, red. 

After applying a huge amount of make up, to cover the bruises you decided to attend work. You were aware of the fact that he would beat you after work, but you had to get out of the house. You were so desperate to leave the four walls that you were ready to take a beating from the asshole. The director was happy to see you, she assumed that you had taken the months off due to your migraine, which obviously wasn't true. You were handed a script to read through before they began shooting any scenes. You were reading through the pages while quickly walking towards the coffee machine. You didn't notice anyone being around, you were too focused on the words written on the script when you fell to the floor. Panic struck you as you put your arms over your head, in order to protect yourself from the kicks. 

"Please don't hit me" you pleaded as you tried to shield yourself. You patiently waited for the punches, for the kicks but nothing came. That's when you realised that you were on work, he wasn't there. Your body relaxed, immediately. You didn't dare locking eyes with the stranger you bumped into. 

"Miss, are you okay?" a dark voice questioned. The voice was unfamiliar, it had a thick accent. You felt him approach you, he kneeled down to your level as you laid on the floor. You were ashamed, your reaction was pure and you were terrified. 

"I'm so sorry" you mumbled, you still didn't dare to meet his eyes. Your gaze was stuck on the floor, you had made a fool out of yourself. 

"Hey, it's okay" he gently said, his calming and reassuring words gave you a tiny bit of confidence. You dared to lift your head, your eyes observed him for a moment. His appearance reminded you of an angel. He was wearing a white dress shirt, a few buttons were undone. The tattoos on his hands caught your attention, you stared at him, as the idiot you were. 

"I'm so sorry sir, I'm being pathetic" you quickly rambled as you tried to stand to your feet. 

"Not at all." he softly spoke, his dark orbs were inspecting every part of you. You were embarrassed due to your caked up face. His voice interrupted your thoughts "With all respect Miss. I'm concerned for you". You couldn't believe your ears, why would he be concerned? You forced a smile onto your lips, desperately searching for a lie. 

"Oh, there's no need for you concern, sir" you said with a forced smile. He was a stranger, yet he saw through you and the mask you put on. 

"I see through you. I see through the make up. I accidentally saw the bruises under your arm when you fell" the stranger responded. His eyes were filled with concern, you took a deep breath in order to prevent the tears from falling. You had reached your breaking point, in front of a stranger. "Follow me" he motioned for you to follow him to an office. You quickly scurried behind him as he strode to the office. You didn't know anything about him, you didn't even know his name. 

"Take a seat" he calmly spoke as he took a seat on the couch himself. You slowly approached the couch and took a seat before he continued speaking "My name is Michele Morrone, I'm an actor who recently received a job here. Your initial reaction of bumping into me told me that you're going through some tough shit." His words were gentle and moving, you shut your eyes, biting your lip. You couldn't cry in front of him. 

"Fuck" you mumbled as tears streamed down your face. 

"Listen, we're going to throw this dick in jail. He's a fucking disgrace. Men who abuse women deserve to rot in a cell." he angrily spoke. Michele offered you a way out of jail. Would you take it? 

Thank you guys for sending me all these amazing requests. I appreciate every single one of you. Thank you for the support. I would love to hear what you think about the story so far.