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carefulignorantghost · 5 months ago

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Breaking Dishes When You’re Disappointed

You come home late and (eycte era) Alex is drunk. He gets very angry and you are scared.

Warnings: domestic violence, substance abuse, use of the word slut, unwanted kiss, suicide attempt, hospital setting, very very sad.

I DO NOT BELIEVE ALEX HAS DONE OR WOULD DO THESE THINGS.

My intent is not to glamorize domestic violence. I thought it would be a serious topic I could incorporate into fanfiction. If people are uncomfortable with this, please do not read.

“Alex! I’m home!” You called out before closing the door.

Alex came storming over. His jaw was clenched and his body was tense. And he had a near-empty vodka bottle in his swaying hand.

You backed up against the door. You had never seen him like this.

“Where the fuck were you?” Alex slurred in an angry, drunken haze. You moved your hand over to the door handle but Alex gripped your arm tightly.

“I told you I was going out with my friends.” You said tentatively.

“When did I say you could go out looking and probably acting like a slut?” He said, clenching your arm even tighter, making it ache. Yet you ignored the physical pain.

You furrowed your brow and looked up at him, confused and hurt. The words stung like a knife in your gut. Alex never said anything like this. Especially not to you.

“What? We talked about this last week!” You said, slightly raising your voice as you stepped closer to him. “And I don’t look like a slut, you dickhead!”

Alex looked you up and down before reaching your eyes with a cold stare.

“You can’t wear this stripper shit. People will think you’re looking for a fuck.” He looked disgusted.

“What the fuck, Alex?” You yelled at him. But he leaned in closer and started kissing your neck. Your body tensed.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You yelled, yanking your arm from his grasp. You slapped him in the face. His face turned to the side.

Alex looked at you with rage in his dark eyes. He looked at the bottle in his hand.

He threw the vodka bottle at your head.

You closed your eyes and quickly ducked, lifting your arms up to protect your face. You heard the high pitched sound of class cracking and falling all around you.

You felt sharp stinging pains on your arms. You slowly opened your eyes and gasped. There was a three inch long cut along with multiple little cuts.

You stared at Alex in shock as you breathed heavily.

He swallowed. Alex was erratic and shaking with anger. His intense eyes couldn’t seem to focus on any one thing.

You then stared at the blood dripping on the floor, not just from your arm, but from your leg. You had another cut, roughly two inches long.

You quietly walked through the hallway and up the stairs to the guest bedroom, locking it behind you. You scoured the guest bathroom’s cabinets for a first aid kit, but you didn’t find one.

You unlocked the door and went into yours and Alex’s bathroom. You found the first aid kit in the cabinet. As you turned to go back into the guest bedroom, you saw Alex standing in the doorway.

You ran into the bedroom, quickly locking it. You heard banging on the door as you fled into the bathroom. You quickly washed your cuts in an anxious state, afraid he would break in. You applied ointment to your cuts before placing the bandaids over the cuts.

You opened the bathroom door to hear Alex still banging on the door.

“Stop it, Alex!” You screamed at him.

“Let me in! I’m fucking pissed at you, Y/N.” He yelled through the door.

“Go away, Alex! We’ll talk tomorrow when you’re sober!”

Alex hit the door even harder. You started crying, not knowing if you were even relatively safe.

“You’re scaring me, Alex! Please just leave!” You cried out.

The banging stopped after a few seconds.

You took off your shoes and went under the covers, not even caring that your dirty clothes were still on. You curled into the fetal position and cried yourself to sleep.

***

You woke up early, but not before Alex. You lay in bed contemplating what to do.

You decided to get it over with. You padded down the stairs quietly, still in last night’s clothing. You walked past the front door, where the glass still lie, shattered into a million pieces. You found Alex in the kitchen. He looked tired and somehow only slightly hungover.

“Are you ok? When I woke up you weren’t next to me.” Alex said, briefly looking at you. Before he really looked at you; he looked you up and down, worriedly. You were huddled into yourself, your shoulders caving in.

“Why are you in a dress?” He asked, confused. He stepped towards you, but you backed away.

“Do you really not remember what happened last night?” Your voice quivered as you looked up at him.

Alex tried to gather his memories.

“…No. I don’t.”

“Sit down.” You told him as you pulled out a chair for yourself.

You took a deep breath. “I came home last night. You know how I went out with my friends?” You asked.

“No? You left before I got home.” He looked you in the eye.

“I texted you about it, Alex.” You said, frustrated.

Alex looked down at the table like a puppy being scolded.

“You were drunk as hell. And you were pissed off.”

Alex’s eyes widened, trying to piece the memories together.

“You said I looked like a slut and that I was probably acting like one, too.”

Alex was ashamed. “Y/N, I’m so sor-“

“You will be when you hear what else happened.” You were almost crying. “You grabbed my arm and wouldn’t let it go. And you forced yourself onto me. I had to slap you in the face.”

Alex looked horrified. His eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly open. He started to talk again.

“That’s not even the worst of it, Alex.” You stood up and peeled off the bandaids, showing him the cuts.

He was even more horrified.

“You threw a vodka bottle at me and it almost hit me in the face. I barely got out of the way.” You started crying. You hid your face behind your hands.

Alex quickly got up from his chair and held you, but you tensed and he felt it. He pulled away, but kept his hands on your shoulders.

“God, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t even remember. I didn’t know why there was glass at the door. I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Alex began to tear up, too.

Then the memories rushed into Alex’s head. “I remember now.” He said, backing away from you. He started gagging at the images in his head.

You looked at Alex as he stared at his own hands and then at you. He was absolutely terrified.

Alex backed up into the wall, wide-eyed. He started breathing heavily, clearly having a panic attack.

“Oh my God, oh my God. I’m sorry. I can’t-“ His eyes were leaking tears as he said this.

You didn’t know what to do. You still loved him, but you were afraid of him.

All you could do was offer forgiveness.

“Alex, it’s ok.”

Alex shook even harder.

“No, no, it’s not.” He grabbed his head and slumped to the floor, a crying mess.

You walked over to him and hugged him. He tensed and shuddered underneath you.

“Al, open your arms.” You said gently.

He slowly moved his arms for you. You brushed your chest against his and held him. Alex just sobbed.

“I’m-“ inhale. “So-“ inhale. “Sorry. I’m so sorry.”

***

The weeks that followed were heavy. Alex stayed in the master bedroom while you stayed in the guest room. He hadn’t drunk a single drop of alcohol since that night.

One night, during dinner, you reached out for Alex’s hand.

“Alex, you and I both know that this isn’t working out and it won’t. We can’t recover from this together.” You said with tears in your eyes.

Alex looked at you sadly with glazed over eyes.

“I know.” He quietly spoke.

“I packed up most of my stuff.” It was true. You slowly packed up your clothes, hoping Alex wouldn’t notice.

“I know.” He repeated.

“It’s time for me to go, Al.” You started crying.

Alex just stared with those sad, brown eyes. He knew. He knew.

You got up from the table and walked up the steps. You grabbed your bag from the guest bathroom before saying goodbye to the bathroom and your bedroom.

You remembered showers and baths spent together. How you’d hear Alex sing in the shower. How he’d pile a shit ton of gel into his hair. You laughed tearfully at those days. How he’d sneak up behind you and whisper “I love you” in your ear.

You walked into the bedroom. You thought of all the times you had held each other in this bed. All the times you made love. How it wasn’t just fucking. How you read to each other in this bed. How you cried while Alex held you. And vice versa.

You closed the door behind you.

Your body felt heavier with each step.

You eventually reached the kitchen. Alex was staring sadly at the table before he looked up at you.

Alex padded over to you. “Can I walk you to the car?”

You nodded at him, smiling sadly.

He walked you down the pathway to your car.

You placed your bag in the trunk.

“I guess this is goodbye.” Alex said, holding back tears.

You stepped forward and hugged him. He held you tightly.

“I love you, Al. Thank you for the best four years of my life.” You kissed him softly. He kissed you back.

“Thank you, Y/N. You’ve done so much for me and you don’t even know it. Please know I’ll always love you.” Alex promised.

***

You got the news a few weeks later. It was late at night, about 1 AM. You heard your phone ringing on your bedside table.

Matt called you and told you Alex had attempted to kill himself.

“Oh my God, what? Is he ok? I’m leaving the apartment right now. Where is he?” You anxiously asked Matt. You grabbed your keys and frantically left your friend’s apartment, still in your pajamas.

“He’s at the hospital. I had to call the police.” He said before telling you the address.

You sped to the hospital, not even caring that you were driving well over the speed limit. All you had on your mind was Alex.

Alex, Alex, Alex.

***

You sat anxiously in the waiting room.

The door opened.

“Are you here for Alexander Turner?” The woman said staring at you.

“Yes, I am.” You needed to see him.

“Ok, right this way.” She walked you over to the hallway.

“Room 524, to your right.” She directed you.

“Thank you.” You said.

“No problem.” She smiled at you.

You knocked on the door of Room 524.

A few seconds later the door opened. A doctor stood in the doorway. Matt was sitting next to Alex, who was awake in the bed.

“Is she here?” You heard him ask Matt.

“Yes, Al.”

“You’re Y/N?” The doctor asked.

“Yes.” You said, nodded at him.

“I’m Dr. Woodall. We need to talk out here.” The doctor said, closing the door behind him.

“As you probably heard, Alex attempted suicide. He jumped off the second story balcony. He broke his leg and his wrist.”

“Oh my God.” You said, in shock.

“He’s lucky he’s alive.” The doctor said grimly.

He opened the door for you, but stayed outside. Matt got up from his seat and walked out of the room.

Neither of you said anything for a couple minutes.

“Why did you do it?” You asked him sadly.

“I couldn’t live with myself.” He looked at you. “I don’t if I can… It’s horrible to know I did such an awful thing. I became violent, and worst of all, I hurt you.” Alex looked away. “And you had to tell me what happened cause I couldn’t even remember what I did.” He started tearing up.

You moved closer to Alex and brushed his hair out of his face.

“Alex, it was a mistake. You were absolutely hammered. It doesn’t make it completely ok, but it’s not like you did it when you were sober.” You consoled him.

“I know, but I still did it. I still hurt you. And I feel awful about it because I scared you. You were terrified and now I’m terrified of myself.” Alex said, crying.

“Can I hug you, Al?” You asked sadly.

Alex looked at you with hesitation.

“Mm, ok.” He said slowly.

You wrapped your arms around him loosely so you didn’t hurt him.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry for throwing the bottle at you and I’m sorry for this now.” He cried into your ear.

You just held him tighter.

“Alex, we’ll be okay. We just need time. We just need time.” You said quietly.

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