tw: self harm, depression, mentions of thoughts of suicide
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Ever since your relationship with Renée went public, her so-called fans started to come at you, hating on you with a fervour you hadn't anticipated. At first, you brushed it off, thinking it was just a phase, hoping it would die down eventually. But as time went on, the vitriol only seemed to intensify, and no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, it continued to gnaw at you, a constant presence lurking in the corners of your mind.
You made a conscious decision not to burden Renée with your struggles. She had her own career to focus on, her own stresses to deal with, and you didn't want to add to that. So, you kept it all to yourself, plastering on a smile whenever you were in public with her, pretending like everything was fine even when it felt like the world was crumbling around you.
But tonight, as the two of you were tangled up on the couch, lost in each other's embrace, it became impossible to keep up the façade. Renée's hands were on your waist, anchoring you in place as she tugged at your hoodie, a silent request to feel your skin against hers. With a smile, you acquiesced, allowing her to peel off the fabric and reveal the bra-clad contours of your upper body.
Her smile mirrored yours as she pulled you closer, her lips seeking yours in a tender kiss. You melted into her touch, revelling in the warmth of her embrace as her fingers traced patterns on your skin. But then, her touch faltered, and you felt a shift in the atmosphere.
Glancing down at your wrists, Renée's eyes widened in shock as she caught sight of the tell-tale marks that marred your skin. In an instant, your heart plummeted, the weight of guilt and shame crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You scrambled to cover up, but it was too late—she had already seen them, and there was no hiding the truth now.
Tears welled up in your eyes, betraying the stoic façade you had carefully crafted. Renée's arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as she cradled you against her chest. She didn't say anything at first, just held you in silence, a comforting presence amidst the storm of emotions raging inside you.
"Baby... why?" Her voice was barely a whisper, but the question hung heavy in the air, demanding an answer you weren't sure you could give. You hesitated, unsure of how to put into words the turmoil that had consumed you for so long.
"Your fans," you finally choked out, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own sobs. "They hate me. I don't know why, but... but none of them like me." The words spilled out in a rush, a jumble of pain and frustration that had been building up inside you for far too long.
Renée's expression softened, her heart breaking at the raw vulnerability in your voice. "Baby, you should have told me," she murmured, her fingers gently brushing away the tears that stained your cheeks. You nodded in silent agreement, the weight of your silence suddenly feeling heavier than ever before.
With a gentle hand, Renée guided you to your feet, leading you to the backroom where she kept her first aid supplies. Without a word, she set to work, cleaning and bandaging the wounds on your wrists with a tenderness that brought tears to your eyes.
She didn't ask for explanations or pass judgment; she simply tended to your wounds, offering silent support in the only way she knew how. And in that moment, as you stood together in the quiet solitude of her backroom, you knew that no matter what the world threw at you, as long as you had Renée by your side, you could weather any storm.
As Renée tucked you into her bed, ensuring you were comfortable and drifting off to sleep, a sense of gratitude washed over you, knowing you were in such caring hands. You felt the weight of the day's struggles begin to lift as exhaustion pulled you deeper into slumber.
Meanwhile, Renée tiptoed out of the room, careful not to disturb your rest. With a deep breath, she reached for her phone, preparing to address her fans on Instagram Live. The anticipation coiled in her stomach, a mix of nerves and determination fueling her resolve.
As the viewers began to trickle in, Renée steeled herself for what was to come. She knew there would be comments—negative ones, filled with spite and ignorance. But she refused to let them go unanswered, not when it came to defending the person she loved.
"You guys know about my girlfriend," she began, her voice steady despite the turmoil churning within her. The floodgates opened, comments pouring in at a rapid pace. Renée's jaw clenched as she scrolled through the sea of negativity, her blood boiling with each word of disdain.
"But I love my girlfriend very much," she continued, her tone unwavering in its conviction. "And to all of you who have shown hate to her in the past, I will be taking legal action on it." The shift in the comments was palpable, the vitriol giving way to a mixture of shock and apprehension.
Renée couldn't help but roll her eyes at the sudden change in attitude. It was frustrating how quickly people could switch gears when faced with the threat of consequences. But she refused to dwell on it, instead choosing to focus on the positive—the unwavering love and support she had for you.
For the remainder of the live stream, Renée spoke only of you, her voice softening as she recounted memories and shared anecdotes, oblivious to the fact that you had woken up and silently made your way to her side.
"Hi, baby," you whispered, a shy smile gracing your lips as you settled onto her lap. Renée's eyes lit up at the sight of you, her heart swelling with affection. "I was just talking about you," she replied, returning your smile with one of her own.
The warmth of her embrace enveloped you, chasing away the lingering shadows of doubt and insecurity. In that moment, surrounded by the glow of Renée's love, you knew that together, you could face whatever challenges lay ahead. And as you leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her lips.
