Misfits (#2)

47.

Violet.

I groan, burrowing my face deeper into the comforter once my eyes open. I'm not hungover. I didn't drink, but my muscles are sore and my head hurts from tiredness regardless.

I stretch my arms out, searching for Everest once I realise that his chest's not underneath me. When I feel nothing, I rub at my eyes and look around.

"Ev?" I lean back against the headboard once I spot him, perched on the edge of the bed. His back to me.

I run a hand through my hair. He got me out of my dress and into bed but I don't remember that. The last I remember was sprinting out of the club's neon lights, down a dingy alleyway. A smile starts to form. It was fun.

He doesn't answer me again so I lift the comforter from me and scoot over to him. I wrap my arms around him from behind and set my chin on his shoulder.

"Hi." I kiss his neck lightly.

When he doesn't respond again, makes no move to look at me, I tense. Something feels off so I ask, "Is everything oka-"

He untangles from me and I try hard not to let the pang of dejection effect me. I sit back on the bed and look up to him, his back to me, "What's wrong?"

He's silent. Still. Both things that Everest Jones doesn't like, nor do. My stomach starts to spin with nauseating anxiety.

"Do I make you feel unsafe?" He asks and my stomach immediately sinks at the sound of his voice. Rough, and ragged and tired. How long has he been awake?

"Of course not." I sit so my legs are off the bed now.

"Was there ever a time I made you feel unsafe? Unprotected. Like you couldn't just talk to me." He's still not looking to me and not being able to see his expression makes me so much more anxious.

Something's wrong.

"Ev-"

"Answer me, sweetheart, please." He speaks softly, with the gentleness I know so well.

"No." I stand up now, "Never, Ev. You know that. I'm safe with you. Can you look at me?"

He doesn't so I grasp his shoulders and turn him around. Why does he look so broken? In one night. I meet his red, sunken eyes and I don't understand. From the club, to now-

His blue eyes flit down. I follow his gaze.

Panic is such a sudden jolt through my body that I stumble back from him. My arms are bare. I'm in his shirt and every single one of my scars is visible. He's seen them already. But I can't. I keep them hidden, shielding them behind my back.

I manage to meet his eyes and my stomach falls to my feet. No. He's seen them all. Every deep cut on my skin that is so evidently a result of abuse. Abuse I never told him about, even when he'd asked. Even when he was the one person I felt as if I could confide in. I didn't. And he looks so broken now.

I don't know why I try to cover up. It's pathetic and we both know it but I break the silence, "They're nothing. They're-"

What? I fell down the stairs. Or Leia scratched me. Or I got caught in the middle of something. It's not believable once you see the slashes from her alcohol bottles. 

"Please don't lie to me anymore. You have no reason to, Vy."

"Nothing's wrong!" I panic, walking back, not wanting to face any of this, "I wasn't lying. I didn't lie to you. It's just—"

"It's wrong, my love." He says back, with so much gentleness and so much pain as he gets closer, "Violet, it's abuse. It's all over you. It's serious and you cannot hide from me anymore, please-"