𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

7

It's seven in the morning before Robbie crawls into bed, quietly, trying not to wake me up. Little does he know that I've struggled to sleep all night, and I'm ready to throw him through the window.

The fact that he is even pulling the covers over us and attempting to take his side of the bed after weeks of leaving it absent, just amplifies my suspicions, makes me so mad that my pulse is throbbing in my neck.

I lose it. "Where the hell have you been?" My tone is more than snappy, keeping my back to him. He doesn't reply, but he does let out a long, disrespectful sigh. I look at him over my shoulder, the sunrise giving off enough light for me to see his bloodshot eyes and dishevelled hair. "Robbie?"

He huffs, loud, and I see his jaw tensing. "Jesus, Danielle. Why are you always fucking hounding me? I fell asleep at a friend's place, again. Leave it."

"I sent you voice notes, and you didn't respond. It's seven in the morning," I reply, feeling my chest rising and falling quickly, my heart racing with a newfound surge of rage.

"Brilliant observation," he mutters.

I sit up on the bed, scowling at him. "What's going on with us?"

"You're starting to act like a psychotic girlfriend for some fucking reason," he says with a laugh, covering his eyes with his forearm. "You're just stressed and taking it out on me, babe. Go to sleep."

"No, you stay awake and talk to me!"

He pulls his arm back from his face and sneers at me. "Do you have a guilty conscience or something? Out of nowhere, you've gotten so paranoid." He sits up and grabs my jaw painfully tight, the sting making me hold my breath. "In the six years that we've been together, have I ever done anything to make you doubt me?"

I try to shake my head, but his grip is too strong, and I wince when he digs his fingers in harder. "Let go," I demand through my teeth, but all he does is smirk, the look in his eyes making me wish I just pretended to be asleep.

Tugging my face to his, smelling the strong whiff of alcohol from his breath, he uses his free hand to run calloused fingers along my lips, before grimacing. "You know what? You're lucky that I'm even still around. No one would want to be with someone like you."

His words hurt, but it's not the first time he's commented on my appearance. Like a bully in school, he enjoys pointing out that I have far too many freckles to even call them a sign of beauty, that my thick, ginger hair will look better brown, that my pale complexion reminds him of a corpse with green eyes too big for my face. I laugh it off and put it down to him trying to be funny, but deep down, I know he's serious.

I am fully aware that I'm not pretty. I'm not the sun-kissed, blonde girl or the brunette with hazel eyes and a banging body. Me? I'm plain, I'm nothing, and I'm okay with that.

There was a time that I thought the opposite. I had some sort of confidence that I wasn't the same ugly, carrot-headed girl growing up in school. Robbie used to love everything about me; my hair, tracing his finger on the freckled clusters on my shoulders and cheeks, kissing the thicker ones on my chest.

But now, those moments are just painful memories.

I feel his fingertips press even harder, so much that my teeth are close to cracking. With an audible gasp, I slap his hand away, holding my palm against the aching bruises that already appeared. "Why the fuck are you doing this?"

Snorting, he lies back down on the bed and buries his face into the pillow. "Swear words don't suit you. Chuck it and let me fucking sleep." I feel my blood boil and he cuts me off before I can explode at him, using a warning tone as he glares at me. "You better just drop it, Danielle."