#toxic relationship /

[kaluwa-del-conte]

[shsxxvm]

NO ESCAPE — rafe cameron

WARNING : This story contains depictions of emotional harassment, physical and psychological violence, manipulation, explicit threats, obsessive behavior, and a scene involving physical danger and confinement. Reader discretion is advised.

The clock read 10:47 p.m., and the restaurant was deserted. Only the low hum of the refrigerator and the rhythmic sound of the broom as Y/N swept across the floor could be heard. The dim lights in the restaurant reflected her tiredness; it had been a long day, but for her, it was worth it. Working gave her a sense of independence that few understood, especially the Kooks.

She had spent months avoiding everything related to Rafe Cameron. After their breakup, he hadn’t stopped looking for her, insisting on talking to her, but Y/N refused. Her heart still bore the scars of their relationship, and the last thing she needed was for him to show up again.

When she heard the jingle of the bell on the door, she thought that perhaps some clueless customer had walked in. However, when she looked up, her body tensed at the sight of Topper Thornton entering with that mocking smile he always wore.

“Topper?” What are you doing here?” he asked, frowning as he set the broom aside.

“Well, well…” Topper drawled as he looked around in disdain. “So it’s true? Y/N, Rafe Cameron’s ex-girlfriend, working like a pogue.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes tiredly. She had no energy for his comments.

“Because of people with such a withdrawn mentality, the world is the way it is, Topper,” she replied indifferently, turning her back and returning to her task.

Topper let out a dry, sarcastic laugh, crossing his arms.

“And how do you think Rafe would react if he knew his precious Y/N was working here, staying up late by herself?” he asked in a mocking tone, enjoying every word.

Y/N dropped the broom, quickly turning to him. Her face was pale, and her eyes showed genuine fear.

“Topper, please don’t say anything. Really…” she pleaded, feeling a knot in her stomach.

He shrugged, smirking.

“Too late.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat when the restaurant door opened again, and there he was: Rafe Cameron, with that smile she knew so well, a mix of mockery and possessiveness. His blue gaze caught her like it always did, but this time she didn’t feel love, only fear.

“What, honey?” Rafe said in a soft but venomous voice. “You didn’t think you could escape me, did you?”

Topper walked past him, patting him on the shoulder before leaving.

“Have a good time, buddy.” And he walked out, leaving Y/N alone with Rafe.

“Topper, don’t go!” she yelled, but the door closed behind him.

Before she could move, she heard the door lock click. Rafe had closed it.

“Rafe, I…” she began, taking a step back.

“Shh,” he interrupted her, slowly approaching. “I’ve been patient, you know? I gave you space. But now, sweetheart, there are no more games.”

Y/N felt the air grow thicker. She was trapped, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t know how to get out.

“Rafe, please let me go. This doesn’t have to be like this…” she whispered, trying to calm him, though her voice was shaking.

He stopped in front of her, leaning down a little to look her straight in the eyes.

“Let you go?” he repeated, with a crooked smile. “That was never an option, Y/N. It never will be.”

She gulped, knowing that tonight would change everything.

Y/N backed away slowly, trying to stay calm as her eyes desperately searched for something she could use as a defense. The restaurant seemed like a small, cramped place suddenly, every corner a trap.

“What do you want, Rafe?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“I want you. I’ve always wanted you, Y/N. But you decided you could just walk away, didn’t you? Like everything we had was… optional.” His tone was getting deeper, and his eyes were shining with a dangerous mix of obsession and anger.

Rafe took a step closer to her, forcing her back until her back hit the counter. Y/N flinched, her hands shaking as she tried to keep her composure.

“You can’t keep going like this, Rafe. This isn’t right. You need help, someone who—”

“I don’t need help!” he shouted, slamming a closed fist on the counter, causing her to jump slightly. Her face was flushed, and the tension in her jaw made it obvious she was struggling to control her emotions.

Y/N tried to move to the side, but Rafe quickly blocked her, cornering her against the counter. His breathing was heavy, and the air was thick with an implicit threat that made it impossible for her to think clearly.

“All of this…” he said, pointing her up and down. “This pathetic job, these lonely nights. Did you really think you could just walk away from me, live like a pogue, and I would just let you go?”

She couldn’t stop the tears from building up in her eyes, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of crying in front of him. She straightened her back and looked at him bravely.

“I’d rather do this than be with you, Rafe. I’d rather do anything than be with you again.”

Her words seemed to break something inside him. Her mocking smile disappeared, replaced by an expression of pure rage. Before she could react, Rafe grabbed her wrist tightly, pulling her towards him.

“Don’t talk about me like that, Y/N. I gave you everything. Everything. And you repay me like this.”

“Leave me, Rafe!” she screamed, struggling against his grip, but he was too strong.

Rafe pushed her against the counter harder, his face dangerously close to hers.

“I warned you not to play with me, didn’t I?” he said, his voice low but laced with anger. With his other hand, he slid a lock of hair from her face, a gesture that should have been affectionate, but now felt cold and calculated.

Y/N felt the tears begin to fall, and her fear grew as he pushed her to the ground, pinning her down.

“Rafe, please, this doesn’t have to be like this. Please…” she pleaded, her voice cracking.

But Rafe didn’t seem to be listening. He was lost in his own madness, his eyes shining with an intensity that terrified her.

“If you can’t be mine, Y/N, then you won’t be anyone’s.”

She struggled with all her might, clawing, kicking, screaming, hoping someone would listen. She managed to reach him with a punch to the face, giving him a few seconds to break free and run to the door.

But the lock was still on.

Before she could remove it, she felt Rafe grab her again, throwing her to the ground hard. Her head hit the floor, and the world began to spin as he leaned over her, his breathing erratic and his gaze completely unhinged.

“You can’t escape me, Y/N. You never will.”

At that moment, the lights of a car briefly illuminated the interior of the restaurant, and the headlights stopped right in front of the door. The sound of someone getting out of the vehicle made Rafe pause for a moment, his gaze shifting to the window.

Y/N, though stunned, took advantage of the distraction to scream at the top of her lungs.

“Help! Please, someone, help me!”

The door shook from outside, and a familiar voice called out her name. It was JJ, accompanied by Kie.

“Rafe, get away from her!” JJ screamed, slamming the door hard.

For an instant, Y/N saw the doubt on Rafe’s face, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

“This isn’t over, Y/N,” he whispered with a crooked smile, letting go just before running to the back of the restaurant.

When JJ and Kie finally entered, they found Y/N on the floor, shaking and with tears in her eyes. JJ quickly knelt down beside her, wrapping her in a protective hug.

“It’s over, Y/N. You’re safe now.”

But she knew that wasn’t true. As she felt JJ’s arms around her, she couldn’t stop thinking about Rafe’s last words.

“This isn’t over.”

[muttlvr]

𝓘m going to break you into everything i desire.

𝓨ou're my doll, my toy. You would look so pretty with a knife to your throat. ⸺ 🔪

[silver-soul00]

I make a pseudo sequel to my previous post, responding to accusations directed towards the ship.

Always in a constructive manner.

[There are accusations that the Wednesday x Enid couple is ‘’toxic‘’.]

A frequent criticism concerns the character differences between Wednesday and Enid, with the argument that their differences could lead to a dysfunctional relationship.

However, research has demonstrated that differences are not necessarily detrimental to a relationship.

According to Markman et al. (2010), couples who are mutually supportive through differences tend to develop greater conflict resolution skills and strengthen their bond.

In the case of Wednesday and Enid, their differences do not create insurmountable distances, but rather offer opportunities for personal and collective growth.

Enid helps Wednesday explore emotions that she normally tends to repress, while Wednesday offers Enid a more rational and centred perspective.

Another accusation concerns the possibility of emotional dependency, where one party is overly dependent on the other.

Nevertheless, their relationship shows signs of healthy reciprocity.

In accordance with Kelley and Thibaut's (1978) model of interdependence, healthy relationships are characterised by a balance of power and mutual support.

Enid and Wednesday demonstrate this interdependence on several occasions: Enid supports Wednesday emotionally during difficult times, while Wednesday protects Enid physically and respects her as an equal. This mutuality is crucial to avoid toxic dynamics.

A lot of criticism of queer relationships derives from stereotypes and prejudices that do not apply to heterosexual relationships.

Queer literature, as examined by Adrienne Rich in the concept of ‘compulsory heterosexuality,’ suggests that queer relationships are often misinterpreted through the prism of heterosexual standards.

Queer relationships, like the potential one between Wednesday and Enid, do not have to conform to these standards to be considered valid and healthy.

Their interactions challenge traditional conventions, but this does not make them toxic; on the contrary, they provide a far more inclusive and diverse representation of relationships.

A core feature of healthy relationships is mutual support for personal growth, as pointed out by Deci and Ryan (2000) in their theory of self-determination.

Enid also encourages Wednesday to explore sides of herself that she would normally reject, helping her to emotionally grow. Wednesday, with her pragmatic approach, helps Enid to become more autonomous and assertive.

This mutually supportive dynamic contrasts sharply with toxic dynamics, where one side tries to belittle or hinder the other.

Stating that Wednesday could be toxic for Enid requires an in-depth analysis of the dynamics of their relationship, based on psychological patterns of healthy and toxic relationships.

Wednesday, while reserved and distant, does not show manipulative intentions toward Enid.

Available from Braiker and Kelley (1979), manipulation in relationships is characterized by intentional behaviors to gain power and control over the other. Wednesday, on the other hand, behaves in a straightforward and honest manner, although she can be brusque at times.

She never uses Enid for personal gain or to exert power, which eliminates a key aspect of toxic relationships.

Throughout the series, Wednesday shows that she is capable of emotional growth and learning from her mistakes, especially in her interactions with Enid.

Canary and Stafford (1992) point out that the ability to resolve conflict and grow together is an indicator of a healthy relationship. Wednesday, initially reluctant to express emotions, learns to recognize the importance of human connections through Enid's influence.

This suggests an ability to adapt and improve, not typical of toxic relationships, where harmful behavior is repetitive and static.

But despite their personality differences, Wednesday and Enid show a strong mutual respect for each other.

Wednesday, while often cold, does not ignore Enid's emotional needs and, on several occasions, tries to support her, albeit in her own way.

Bowlby's (1969) attachment theory highlights the importance of mutual emotional support as the foundation of healthy relationships.

Wednesday offers support to Enid when necessary, showing that he respects her needs and boundaries.

A crucial aspect of a toxic relationship is isolation, where one partner tries to separate the other from his or her support networks (Walker, 1979).

Wednesday, on the other hand, not only does not isolate Enid, but encourages her independence.

Wednesday respects Enid's need for other friendships and supports, demonstrating a healthy, non-possessive approach to the relationship.

We should not forget about the communication between Wednesday and Enid, which although sometimes difficult, is direct and honest.

According to Gottman (1999), open and honest communication is essential to the health of a relationship.

Even in times of conflict, Wednesday does not hide her thoughts or intentions, which helps a clearer and more respectful dynamic, avoiding the traps of manipulation or emotional control.

Some may object, even rightly, that Wednesday “used” Enid during the outing to the Gates mansion.

Indeed, there is an episode in which Wednesday involves Enid in her plans to explore the Gates mansion, an example of behavior that might appear to be exploitation or deception.

However, it is important to analyze the context and motivation behind the action to assess whether this represents a pattern of toxic behavior.

Wednesday does not exploit Enid in an ongoing or manipulative way;

Enid's involvement in this situation is more of an isolated incident related to Wednesday's determination to solve the mystery.

The key difference from toxic relationships is that Wednesday's intent is not to control or manipulate Enid in the long run, but rather to get help with a specific mission.

Toxic relationships are often characterized by repeated and systematic manipulative behaviors (Braiker and Kelley, 1979).

In Wednesday's case, the episode with the Gates mansion is an exception rather than a rule.

There is no evidence that Wednesday continues to exploit Enid on a regular basis or for selfish personal purposes.

And no, the exchange of places during the work at Pilgrim Word doesn't count at all, that's because that was an exchange that favors both clearly and without deception, Enid wanted to go together with Ajax and Wednesday wanted to please her favoring even herself.

An important element is Wednesday's ability to reflect on her mistakes and try to improve her actions.

After the mansion episode, Wednesday shows greater consideration for Enid's feelings and boundaries, a sign of personal growth.

In accordance with Gottman's (1999) research, the ability to recognize and correct one's mistakes is fundamental to a healthy relationship.

After the conflict caused by the visit to the mansion, Enid and Wednesday manage to discuss and resolve their differences. This indicates a relationship based on open communication and mutual respect, which contrasts with toxic relationships where conflicts tend to remain unresolved or lead to ongoing manipulation.

Well, now here's where I'm going to be much more direct, before you read this part I invite you to look up my analysis of why Tyler is a toxic partner (and especially because he doesn't really love Wednesday) in my Tumbrl account, because now that I'm going to make comparisons I'm going to use some cues from that post.

Tyler maintains deceptive and manipulative behavior for much of the series.

He hides his true identity and intentions, exploiting Wednesday's trust to get closer to her while serving his personal purposes as the Hyde monster.

This type of behavior is a classic example of emotional manipulation, where one partner uses the other's trust and emotions to gain personal advantage or control the situation, as described by Braiker and Kelley (1979).

He constantly uses deception and manipulation to maintain control of the situation.

This pattern is typical of toxic relationships, where manipulative behavior is continuous and an integral part of the relational dynamic (Walker, 1979).

In comparison, Wednesday's behavior toward Enid, even when it might seem abrupt or instrumental, is not characterized by persistent manipulative intentionality.

Wednesday involves Enid in a specific episode (the Gates mansion), but he does not try to systematically deceive or manipulate her for his own personal gain.

Always remembering that Wednesday's behavior, while insensitive at times, does not follow a consistent manipulative pattern.

His relationship with Enid is characterized by honest communication and mutual growth, not systematic manipulation.

Tyler shows no intention to change or be honest with Wednesday until he is discovered.

His lack of change and self-reflection is indicative of a toxic relationship, where manipulative behavior persists without improvement.

And here many might bring forward another objection.

That is, the fact that Tyler is not fully conscious; he is being manipulated by an outside person.

And that is true, but let me expound on that in a better way

There is a contradiction in saying that Tyler deceived Wednesday because he was under Laurel's control, but at the same time claiming that he really loved her.

If Tyler is completely under Laurel's control, then his manipulative actions toward Wednesday could be attributed to a loss of autonomy.

However, this would imply that he is not in control of his actions and therefore cannot truly love authentically, since love requires intentionality and will.

Authentic love involves conscious choice and genuine connection based on mutual respect, trust and understanding (Sternberg, 1986).

If Tyler is under Laurel's control, then he is unable to offer this kind of love, making any claim of authentic love inconsistent with his manipulative state.

Despite Laurel's control, Tyler maintains deceptive behavior for much of the series, hiding his true identity and intentions.

This behavior stands in stark contrast to genuine love, which requires transparency and sincerity.

Claiming that Tyler loves Wednesday while continually deceiving her creates a contradiction: deception is a sign of manipulation and disrespect, while genuine love requires honesty and respect.

According to Bowlby's (1969) attachment theory, a healthy relationship is based on mutual trust, which is clearly violated by Tyler.

Although Tyler is under Laurel's control, there is a question of personal responsibility.

If Tyler really loved Wednesday, one would expect him to find a way to resist or to warn her of danger, showing genuine concern for her welfare.

Tyler's lack of resistance suggests complicity, which contradicts the idea of genuine love.

In a healthy relationship, the partner should do everything possible to protect the other from harm, not to contribute to their deception and manipulation.

We therefore conclude this post with a comparison encapsulating all the info we have gathered in the series.

The relationship between Wednesday and Tyler initially develops on a false premise, where Tyler presents himself as an ally and confidant, only to turn out to be a threat.

This behavior reflects what psychologists call “emotional manipulation.”

A study by Christensen et al. (2006) of couples with abusive dynamics found that manipulators often use deception to create a sense of dependence and vulnerability in their partners.

Tyler uses his appearance as a reliable boyfriend to gain Wednesday's trust, only to betray her later, a clear sign of emotional abuse and deception.

Toxic relationships are often characterized by one partner trying to isolate the other from his or her support networks.

Although Tyler does not isolate Wednesday in the traditional sense, her emotional duplicity alienates her from her sources of trust and safety.

Studies such as Walker's (1979) work on battered women show how the sense of emotional isolation and confusion created by manipulative partners leads to deeply dysfunctional relationships.

Wednesday, in her search for answers, finds herself dependent on Tyler, only to be betrayed.

Tyler does not provide true support to Wednesday, but rather exploits her vulnerabilities for his own purposes.

According to Gottman and Silver (1999), one of the strongest predictors of relational success is the presence of mutual emotional support.

In the relationship with Tyler, this element is entirely absent, as his support is conditional and aimed at manipulation.

In sharp contrast, the relationship between Wednesday and Enid shows mutual support that encourages personal growth.

Following Deci and Ryan's (2000) self-determination theory, relationships that promote personal growth and autonomy lead to greater well-being and satisfaction.

Enid helps Wednesday explore aspects of herself that she usually represses, such as the ability to connect emotionally with others.

At the same time, Wednesday offers Enid a more rational and pragmatic perspective, helping her to become more confident.

Enid and Wednesday's ability to deal with and resolve conflict is a hallmark of a healthy relationship.

Without question, according to Canary and Stafford (1992), open communication and the ability to handle conflict are critical to maintaining a positive relationship.

Even when the two disagree, as shown on several occasions in the series, they manage to find a balance and respect each other's boundaries.

This mutual respect is fundamental to a balanced relationship.

The relationship between Wednesday and Enid is distinguished by the strong mutual support that fosters the development of both of their identities. Bowlby (1969) in his attachment theory stresses the importance of having a partner who provides emotional security, allowing the other to explore and develop their identity.

Enid provides Wednesday with a “safe harbor,” helping her navigate her complex emotions, while Wednesday provides Enid with rational support that encourages her to explore and accept her unique identity.

Studies such as Bancroft's (2002) on emotional abuse and coercive control show that toxic relationships are often characterized by a cycle of manipulation, isolation, and lack of mutual support, elements that are clearly found in the dynamic between Wednesday and Tyler.

In contrast, healthy relationships such as the one between Wednesday and Enid are based on reciprocity, open communication, and emotional support, elements that research indicates are fundamental to relational well-being.

The portrayal of positive queer relationships, such as the potential one between Wednesday and Enid, is supported by research that points to the importance of inclusive role models for the well-being of LGBTQ+ people.

A report by Meyer (2003) on minority stress theory shows that having positive models of queer relationships can reduce feelings of isolation and increase feelings of belonging and acceptance.

Thank you for reading this far and I wish you a good day✨✨✨

[life-deep]

about him again 3

i wanted you, now i don’t know why

you came at me like a neon red sign

said no and flipped on a dime

i wanted you like my favorite sin, now it’s mine

roll the dice, but i knew they were weighted

waited my turn, you never participated

knew no one would win, we both lose and try again

too competitive, too quick to forgive, but my bones never forget

i’m tired of betting on you, tired of sitting at the table

tired of trying for you to just say you’re unable

tired of running, tired of changeless, i’m tired of everything how did it end up this way?

i don’t want to play this game

i just had to walk away

[free-grandmaa]

"With some lips that tucked me in.. We made sure when we're together we're lifted."

[sergeantavii]

Ain't Too Proud To Plead (Ch.2 Sneak Peak)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60678976/chapters/154947481

Author's Note: Please see the tags on AO3 before proceeding so you know the vibe and where this is leading! Yes, fic leaning into Sevika/Vi. Yes, it's a rarepair. If that's no bueno for you then please do move along.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Sevika stopped briefly past the threshold, rattling Vi as she kicked the door closed behind them. The slam didn't shake the walls, so Vi supposed the place was sturdier than she’d previously assumed. A heavy sigh pushed from her chest. It was going to be a long night.

They hobbled over to the bed settled in the middle of the room, a huge king-size with dark, queenly patterns in its fabric. Two pillows and a comforter. Nothing crazy. Just essentials. Again, aesthetics that were clearly someone else’s idea.

Vi had to laugh.

Sevika made a subtle noise of indignance before she shoved Vi off of her, hand to chest, sending Vi stumbling backward until her ass hit the bed. She caught herself with her hands and immediately the texture of the blanket gave her pause. She spread her fingers on the fabric. Impossibly soft. Expensive.

Vi hung her head and laughed some more.

“What's funny?” Sevika rumbled, a growl in a dog’s throat. A warning shot.

Vi shook her head and lifted her gaze, smiling and wincing as she felt the splits in her lips burn. Her injuries were all very young. She knew she looked beat up, pathetic even. 

“Is there anything in this place you bought yourself?” She jested, voice croaking, throat devoid of moisture.

The question seemed to have stalled the other woman. Her expression shifted, confusion nestling itself right next to the ever-present annoyance. A very characteristic scoff and simultaneous eye roll later and Sevika’s back was turned toward her. Vi raised an eyebrow, watching Sevika’s width broaden as she crossed her arms.

“Take that ugly shit off already.” Sevika through the words over her shoulder, her lips revealing her grimace where her hair kept her eyes shy. Vi considered herself, doing her best to disassociate from what she saw.

The enforcer uniform, still hugging her tight despite the tattered state of it.

Carefully, Vi looked the older Zaunite up and down. So different. Bulkier somehow, and Vi found a lot of envy in that. Sevika's get-up was a bit more fashion forward than Vi remembered, what with the gold accents.

And the hair...

Up crept a nagging tickle in the back of Vi's brain, and before she could swallow down the impulse, she succumbed.

“'Vika', what the fuck is your haircut?” 

Even through the muscle pain ricocheting off her bones, Sevika whipping around and storming toward her with a snarl pushing past her teeth gave Vi an unbelievably euphoric satisfaction. A win was a win, especially in a night that held losses such as this. She fully expected to get what she paid for, so when Sevika settled her tab by yanking her collar with enough force to wrench her into a standing position, all Vi could do was smile.

[muttlvr]

𝓘 hate the way these nobodies stare at you. Like a piece of meat. I can't help but feel my blood boil, when someone stares too long at you.

𝓘t won't last long though, at least their life, that is. Inside my basement, they all lay. Animals ready to be skinned and taken apart. Like a puzzle.

𝓝o one can have you, my pretty. As long as i walk. . Haunt, this earth. . You will forever be 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓮.

[a-meh]

[cyberiapinksosa333]

“wtf is wrong with you”

you mean like today or like in general?

[nobita-here]

[grendel-menz]

A navigation of some adult relationships

[anotherlikeyou]

Therapy is expensive, toxic old men yaoi is free

[limerence-leftovers]

I know two men who are currently single. One is 26, and the other is 38.

I’ve spoken with both of them at length about what they want in a woman, seeing as they’re cishet and white.

They both immediately went for physical attributes. Thin, but needs to have a nice butt. Boobs can’t be too big. One likes short hair, the other likes long hair. They also went into facial features for some reason. That was the part that made me really uncomfortable as I hadn’t expected either of them to have been that focused on appearances.

Aesthetics came next. Both want ‘alt goth / witchy’ women. It should be worth noting both of these men said their potential partner can’t wear too much makeup.

Lastly came personality and interests. They both said this is the most important thing to them, but they also ‘have to be pretty’. Oh, and they need to listen.

I have some single ladies I’ve also spoken with.

It’s the opposite. They rarely care about looks. It’s about chemistry, emotional connection, feeling safe, and sharing common goals / ideals.

While I know it’s not ‘all men’ it sure as fuck is a lot of you. Also both of these men think they’re part of the ‘good cishet white liberal men’ who voted for Kamala, despite one of them not voting at all.

He’s the 38 year old. To make things worse, he’s trying to date a 24 year old. 🤷‍♀️ His criteria for a potential partner was also under the age of 30 because it means less baggage and they’re still ‘fun to be around’.

You don’t want to know what he doesn’t bring to the table. Either of them, rather. 😅

We do have a male loneliness epidemic, but it’s not women’s fault. We don’t owe you anything. We’re not vending machines you put tokens into and get sex out of. Male culture made by men and perpetuated by men has made men this way. And it’s your job as men to fix it, not point the finger at us and say it’s our fault for not wanting to be with you. Some of us like myself want to actually HELP you, but you guys rarely want to listen. You instead want to complain to us about our gender and how unfair we’re being by not giving you a chance.

We don’t owe you anything.

On January 20th, 2025 and forward, they’re going to try to take our rights. They may succeed.

Men have to take from us because they’ve gaslit themselves into seeing us as the enemy, despite having driven us away by their own actions centered around self interest.

“It’s not all men. But it sure is a lot of you.”

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　MIDNIGHT COMPANY

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: While filming a car video, the triplets witness a girl - Y/N - arguing with her boyfriend. When he smashes her phone and leaves her alone at midnight in the middle of a random parking lot, Chris steps in.

WARNING: Toxic relationship, yelling, fighting, being hurt physically and emotionally, manipulation, panicking.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N didn't meant for things to end up like that.

She really didn't.

She was just walking alongside her boyfriend through the Target aisles, her eyes darting nervously between the shelves and the floor.

But she should know better. He had already been irritated when they left the apartment - something about her taking too long to get ready - and now, every move she made felt like a mistake.

"Stick close." Her boyfriend had muttered, his voice low but firm. His eyes darted around the store, scanning the aisles of brightly colored products with an air of impatience. "I don’t want to spend all night in here."

Y/N nodded quickly, her throat dry.

"Okay."

They made their way down the main aisle, her boyfriend grabbing a few items and putting them into the cart with little regard. It was always like that; he made the decisions, and she just agreed and moved on.

He paused at the end of that same aisle, scanning the shelves with a discerning eye. She lingered a few steps behind, observing.

He grabbed a box of granola bars from the shelf, tossing it into the cart with a louder thud. She winced at the sound, her stomach knotting with unease.

"Why are you standing there? Do you see the cereal we get?" He asked, his tone clipped.

Her throat tightened. She scanned the shelves frantically, her eyes moving over the rows of colorful boxes. She wasn’t sure if it was the green box or the blue one.

"Um, I think..." She started, reaching hesitantly toward one of the options.

"Don’t think. Look." He snapped, already sounding exasperated.

Her hand faltered, and she pulled it back. Her heart was pounding, and her palms had grown clammy against the leather strap of her purse. She wanted to go home.

They turned into the household goods section, where shelves were lined with glass containers, picture frames, and other fragile items. Her boyfriend stopped abruptly, examining a set of drinking glasses with a critical eye.

"Do you think these match the ones we already have?" He asked, holding up a box with pretty crystal wine glasses.

Y/N hesitated, unsure if he wanted an answer or was just thinking out loud.

"I-I think so."

Her boyfriend sighed, setting the box down with a clatter.

"You’re not even paying attention."

"I am." She said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper, desperately searching for his free hand. "I promise."

"Whatever." He muttered, letting her squeeze his fingers once before dropping hers, moving on.

Y/N quickly followed, trying to stay out of his way, her eyes fixed on his tall figure, crossing her hands in front of her body and forcing her brain to pay more attention to anything he touched or pointed out. She couldn't risk him thinking that she didn't care.

As she passed by one of the shelves, her purse brushed against a precariously balanced display of small vases. Time seemed to slow as the first vase teetered, then fell, hitting the shelf below it and sending a chain reaction through the display.

Crash!

The sound was deafening. Glass shattered across the floor, the pieces glinting under the white lights. Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat. She stared at the mess, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest.

"Oh my god. Are you serious?" Her boyfriend hissed under his breath.

She dropped to her knees instinctively, trembling as she tried to gather the pieces with her bare hands.

"I’m sorry." She whispered, her voice trembling and desperate.

"You're fucking nbelievable." He muttered under his breath, loud enough for her to hear.

She stopped for a moment, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t crying because of the spilled glasses. It wasn’t even about the moment itself. It was about the weight of knowing that every mistake she made was a reason for him to get tired of her. To leave her.

"I’m sorry." She whispered, again and again, the words tumbling out of her mouth as though they might undo the damage. "I’m so s-sorry."

But it wasn’t just an apology. It was an instinctive response, born from the fear of making him feel any sort of negative emotion at all. She knew that he wouldn’t brush this off, wouldn’t laugh, and say it was no big deal. He would be mad, and she couldn't let him get mad at her. Not again.

She desperately wanted to shrink herself down into something more digestible for him at that moment. Something he could chew up, spit out, and discard - like gum.

A woman at the end of the aisle glanced over, her expression a mix of surprise and concern. A man on the opposite side peeked around the corner, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

Y/N’s face burned with humiliation. She felt their stares on her, for sure, full of judgment. Her hands fumbled over the shards, shaking too hard to pick them up properly.

Her boyfriend crouched down beside her, his expression now unusually calm. His hand landed on her shoulder, but the grip was firm, bordering on painful.

"Y/N, honey, stop. You’re going to hurt yourself."

"I’m sorry." She whispered again, the tears on her eyes starting to burn her orbs with the force she used to stop the drops from escaping. She couldn’t let him see her break. She’d learned the hard way that crying only made him angrier.

"Stop it." He said more firmly, moving his hand through her arm, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from the glass. He looked up at the people looking back at them and forced a polite, almost apologetic smile. "She’s... a little clumsy. Always has been. Right, honey? I know you didn’t mean to. You can’t help it, can you?"

Y/N stiffened, her stomach churning. She forced her head to move up and down, the movement coming out almost robotic.

"You’re just... distracted. All the time." He continued, his smile cold and tight. "That’s why these things happen. You can’t focus."

She wanted to argue, to tell him that she wasn’t some careless mess, but the words died in her throat. What good would it do?

"Here." He said, taking an empty cardboard box near them and shoving the pieces to the side with it, taking it all out of the way. "There. Fixed. See?"

She nodded, swallowing hard.

"Now, get up."

She stood, her knees wobbling slightly as she adjusted the strap of her purse. He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her skin.

"It’s okay." He continued, speaking louder now so the others could hear. "She just gets a little overwhelmed sometimes. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of this."

The man at the end of the aisle nodded, giving her boyfriend a small, understanding smile. The woman pursed her lips and turned away, muttering something about how 'accidents happen'.

"Let’s go." He said through clenched teeth as he started walking toward the exit.

"But-"

"No." His voice was low, but the warning was clear. He smiled tightly at the few remaining onlookers as he dragged her past them.

Her face burned with humiliation, but she kept quiet, her eyes glued to the floor. His grip tightened when her feet seemed to disobey her brain, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.

The automatic doors slid open, and the cool night air rushed over her, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her head. Her boyfriend’s pace didn’t slow, his hand still gripping her skin as he led her toward the parking lot.

Her heart was pounding, her thoughts spiraling into chaos. She felt like a child being scolded, small and powerless, her voice locked somewhere deep inside her throat.

When they reached the car, he finally let go of her arm, shoving her away as if she were a piece of garbage. She stumbled slightly, catching herself against the side of the car, waiting for whatever came next.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

From the other side of their spot in the parking lot, the triplets were parked, their van slightly away from the main entrance. It was Wednesday night, and they were filming their weekly video, the interior of the van alive with yells and laughter.

"... No, seriously, people do that sometimes." Chris said, turning slightly towards Matt while trying to prove his point. "Patches O'Houlihan, he did that."

Matt scoffed, looking at him with an 'are you serious?' look.

"From Dodgeball? The fictional character?" He laughed incredulously, looking at Nick through the rearview, ready for another weird thing to come out of Chris's mouth.

Nick's attention, however, wasn’t on him - or them, for that matter. It was on the world outside. He always had a habit of scanning his surroundings, probably in a way of caring for himself and his brothers.

As Chris kept going, earning a loud groan from Matt, Nick’s eyes caught movement across the parking lot, almost exactly in front of their van. Near one of the parked cars, a couple stood in the golden glow of a streetlamp.

Nick’s stomach twisted. Something about the way the guy loomed over the girl, his gestures sharp and erratic, immediately set off alarm bells. The girl was visibly distressed, her arms crossed over her chest, her posture shrinking with every second.

Without thinking, Nick leaned forward and slapped Chris on the shoulder, interrupting him.

"Nick, what the-" Chris began, turning sharply, his annoyance evident.

"Shut up." Nick hissed, his voice low but firm, cutting through Chris’s protest. He nodded toward the couple. "Look."

Chris frowned but followed Nick’s gaze, his expression shifting from irritation to curiosity and then to concern. Matt, who had been in the middle of adjusting his hoodie, leaned closer to the windshield.

"What’s going on?" Matt asked, his voice quieter now.

Nick didn’t answer, instead reaching for the button to lower his window, easing it down. A faint, angry voice carried into the van, growing clearer as the man’s yelling intensified.

"... do you even understand how embarrassing you are?"

The girl stood frozen, her arms clutching her sides as though trying to hold herself together. Her head was bowed, her hair shielding her face from the world. She didn’t respond, didn’t dare to look up, and that only seemed to fuel his anger.

"What the fuck?" Matt muttered, leaning forward slightly to get a better look, his eyes glued to the scene.

"You think I’m joking?" He snapped, stepping closer to her. "You think I enjoy having every pair of eyes in that store on me because you can’t manage to walk without causing a damn scene?" The man continued, stepping closer to her.

Her response was so soft that it barely reached the triplets’ ears.

"I’m sorry..."

"Sorry?" The man laughed bitterly. "You’re always sorry. You’re sorry when you spill coffee, you’re sorry when you trip over your own feet, and now you’re sorry for knocking over half a shelf like a goddamn child?"

The girl flinched at his words, biting her bottom lip while taking a small - almost imperceptible - step back.

Chris tensed after watching her reaction, his jaw tightening.

"This guy’s a piece of-"

"Chris, shush." Matt snapped, his voice low.

"I told you before, didn’t I? Stop acting like a fool every time we’re out in public. This is for your own good." The man spat.

"I didn’t mean to-" She started, but he cut her off quickly.

"Shut up!" He barked, his voice echoing across the lot. She shrank back, her body trembling. "You know better than to talk back to me." He growled, taking another step closer.

"I wasn’t-"

"Stop talking!" He barked, his voice echoing across the empty lot probably louder than intended. "Every time you open your mouth, you make it worse. Do you even understand that? Or are you too stupid to figure it out?"

Tears accumulated inside her eyeballs, shining below the lights.

"Look, I’ll call an Uber, okay?" Y/N murmured, her voice cracking. "You can go home and calm down. Please."

"Oh, you’ll call an Uber? Sure, let’s waste more of my money on your screw-ups." The man’s laugh was sharp and bitter.

She reached into her purse, her hands shaking as she pulled out her phone, unlocking it and trying to search for tha app, being harshly interrupted when the man snatched the device from her grip with such force that she stumbled.

Chris shifted uncomfortably, his fists clenched on his lap.

"Do we step in?"

"I don't think we should, not right now." Nick whispered.

"Give it back. Please, baby." She asked, her voice weak, trembling.

"Why? So you can text your little friends about what a terrible boyfriend I am?" He sneered, holding the phone high above his head.

Y/N's mouth dropped open, her wet eyes widening as if he had just committed the worst crime.

"Baby, please." She begged, her tears now falling freely, causing her voice to break. "I would never ever do that. I love you so much, you know that, right?"

He ignored her. With a single, violent motion, he hurled the phone to the ground. The sound of glass and plastic shattering against the pavement echoed in the silence.

She recoiled as though the blow had landed on her instead of the device, a squeak involuntarily escaping from her mouth. Her arms wrapped tighter around herself as she stared at the broken pieces. Her whole life, broken.

"Should've had taken that shit from you sooner." The man spat, shaking his head. "Pathetic. Can’t do anything right."

Matt and Nick exchanged horrified glances through the rearview, Chris's face pale by their side.

"P-please, don't leave me here, baby. I love you, I'm so sorry." The girl begged, gluing her hands in a praying gesture in front of her body. "I promise I'll do better."

"I can't even look at your face right now." The man shook his head. "I need some time, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer before storming off to the driver-side of his car, slamming the door and speeding out of the lot, tires screeching against the asphalt.

Y/N stood frozen, her trembling figure illuminated by the lights and the moon.

Chris didn’t think. One second, he was staring at her, and the next, his hand was on the van door handle, yanking it open.

"Chris!" Matt hissed from the driver’s seat. "What are you doing?"

"Chris- what the fuck?!" Nick added, his voice urgent but not loud enough to stop him.

But Chris couldn’t wait. He couldn’t sit there any longer, watching this girl suffer alone.

He bolted from the van, the cool night air hitting him like a slap, but he barely noticed. His long strides carried him across the parking lot, his heart pounding not from his pace but from pure urgency.

"Oh my god, he's crazy!" Matt’s groan echoed from behind him, but it was distant, like background noise.

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

The closer he got, the more his stomach churned. Her face was streaked with tears, her cheeks blotchy and raw from crying. But she wasn’t just crying. She was panicking. He could see it in the way her hands trembled uncontrollably, and in the way her breath came in short, sharp gasps.

Chris slowed as he approached her, not wanting to startle her. She was staring at the exit of the parking lot, her wide, unfocused and tear-filled eyes locked on the gate arm as though it was the only thing anchoring her to the ground.

"Hey." He said softly, his voice gentle but firm.

She flinched, her head snapping up, and her gaze locked on him as she took a step back. For a moment, she looked utterly terrified, and Chris's throat tightened.

He quickly held his hands up, palms out, trying to show her he wasn’t a threat.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay." He said quickly. "I just... I saw what happened, and I wanted to check if you’re okay."

Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, a fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. She shook her head, taking another step back, her back almost hitting the metal post of the streetlight.

"You don’t have to be scared." Chris said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I’m not going to hurt you, I swear. I just want to help."

She looked at him again, her watery eyes studying his face as though trying to figure out if he was lying.

Chris took a cautious step closer, keeping his movements slow.

"You’re shaking." He said gently. "It's freezing out here. Can I... can I give you my hoodie?"

She blinked at him, her brows furrowing slightly.

"Why?" She croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because it’s cold, and you’re upset, and I’d feel better if you weren’t standing out here like this." Chris said honestly, shrugging off his hoodie - ignoring how the hairs on his arm fully stood up with the cold air - and holding it out to her.

She hesitated, her eyes darting from his face to the piece of clothing, then back again.

"It’s okay." Chris reassured her. "You don’t have to take it, but I promise it’s clean. And warm."

After what felt like an eternity, she slowly reached out and took the hoodie from him. Her hands were trembling so much that she almost dropped it, but she managed to pull it to her chest, pressing it against her covered skin.

"Thank you." She mumbled, her voice shaky.

Chris exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

"Of course. What’s your name?" He asked in a soft tone. "I'm Chris."

She blinked her eyes at him, frowning, clearly surprised by the question.

"Y-Y/N." She said hesitantly.

"Y/N." He repeated, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "It’s really nice to meet you... Um, do you want to sit down? You look like you need a second."

She looked around the parking lot again before nodding slowly, and Chris gestured to the curb nearby. He waited until she sat down before taking a seat a few feet away, giving her space but staying close enough that she wouldn’t feel alone.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"I’m fine." She finally said - even though it wasn't what Chris was expecting to hear, her voice cutting through the silence, hoarse and shaky.

Chris tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing.

"I don’t think you are."

"I am." She insisted, but her voice cracked on the words, betraying her.

Chris turned his face slightly to the side to meet her eyes, curving his upper body, trying to make himself seem less imposing.

"I know you don’t know me. Well, only my name now." He said softly. "But I can tell you’re not fine. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be. Not after that."

She bit her lower lip hard, and for a second, Chris thought she might break down again. But instead, she straightened her spine, her trembling hands wiping at her tear-streaked face.

"It's not as bad as it looked. He was just angry." She said quietly, almost as if she was saying that to herself. "It’s not his fault. I... I messed up."

Chris’s heart sank at her words.

"You didn’t mess up." He said firmly, his voice laced with conviction.

She shook her head, her hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie tightly.

"I did. I dropped something, broke it, actually. It was stupid, and it drew attention to us, and... and he doesn’t like that. He was just trying to make me understand."

Chris stared at her, his chest tightening painfully.

"That’s not okay." He said softly. "No one should treat you like that, no matter what happened."

"You don’t understand." She said, her voice rising slightly as she hugged herself tighter. "He just... he gets frustrated sometimes, but it’s because he cares. He doesn’t mean to be mean."

Chris’s jaw clenched, a mix of anger and sadness boiling inside him.

"Love isn’t supposed to be like that, Y/N." He said gently. "It’s not supposed to hurt you and leave you standing in a parking lot crying, shaking, and alone."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears again, and she looked away, staring at the ground as if she couldn’t bear to meet his gaze.

"You don’t know him." She whispered, shaking her head vehemently.

Chris wanted to scream, to grab her shoulders, and shake her until she understood that what she was describing wasn’t love. It was control, manipulation, and abuse. But even though he had never helped a victim of a toxic and abusive relationship before, he knew he should keep his voice calm, so he did it, maintaining his tone soft and steady.

"You’re right." He said. "I don’t know him. But I know what I saw, and I can only imagine what it feels like to have someone make you think you’re the problem when you’re not."

Her head whipped toward him, her eyes narrowing.

"You don’t know anything about me."

Chris held up his hands.

"You’re right again. I don’t. But I’m not here to judge you. I’m here because I want to help. No strings, no expectations. Just... let me help. I can't leave you alone here for the rest of the night."

She shook her head again, her hands trembling as she brushed her hair out of her face.

"I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. It isn't fair to him. He’d be so heartbroken if he knew."

Chris watched her for a second too long.

"But you deserve to talk to someone." He finally said. "You deserve to feel safe."

"I am safe!" She snapped, her voice ringing out in the empty parking lot. The declaration sounded hollow, as if she was trying to convince herself more than him.

Chris took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second.

"I just want to help you." He said, his tone pleading. "Do you have someone you can call? A family member, a friend? You can use my phone-"

Her reaction was immediate and panicked. She shook her head furiously, her eyes wide with fear as her body tightened, seeming ready to stand up and run.

"No! No, I can’t call anyone."

"Why not?" Chris asked gently, though his heart was racing, his eyes traveling quickly to his car where his brothers were before going back to Y/N. "They’d want to help you, just like I do."

"I said no!" She cried, her voice cracking. Her breathing was shallow and quick now, teetering on the edge of hyperventilation. "You don’t understand. I can’t just call someone. And you... you need to go. God, you shouldn’t even be here."

Chris frowned, his brows knitting together.

"Please, I’m just trying to-"

"You don’t get it." She interrupted, her voice hushed but frantic. She glanced around the parking lot as though expecting her boyfriend to be there somewhere, watching them. "He’s going to come back. And if he sees you here, if he thinks... you need to leave. Now."

Chris’s stomach dropped at the sheer terror in her voice.

"Y/N, he won't hurt you in any type of way while I'm here with you. I can promise you that." He moved a bit closer again, careful not to make any sudden movement. "Let me do something for you. Anything, please."

"You can’t." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "No one can. Please, just go. He’s going to be here soon, and I-I can’t let him see you."

She was holding onto that story like it was a lifeline, but the way her hands trembled and her breath hitched betrayed her doubt.

"What if he doesn’t?" Chris asked gently. "What if he’s not coming back tonight?"

Her face fell for a brief moment before she quickly masked it, straightening up.

"He will." She said, though there was no conviction in her tone. "He always does."

Chris nodded, looking around dismissively.

"Okay. Maybe he will. But just in case... maybe you could let me help you. You don’t have to trust me, I get that. I'm a stranger. But let me offer you something. A safe place to wait."

"I don’t have anywhere to go." She admitted, her voice so quiet it was almost lost in the night air. "Just our house. And I don't think I should go back there now."

Chris’s heart twisted at her words and how uncertain they sound, but he kept his expression neutral, careful not to show pity.

"Okay." He said softly. "Then maybe you can just... talk to me. You don’t have to get in my car. We can sit out here. I’ll stay right here in the open where you can see me."

She hesitated, her eyes darting to the ground.

"Why do you care so much?"

Chris crossed his legs above the pavement, relaxing his posture further.

"Because I know what it’s like to feel like you’re on your own." He said simply. "And because I don’t think anyone should have to go through something like this alone. You don’t deserve that."

She hesitated, her gaze watching her hands above her thighs.

"I won’t call the police unless you want me to." Chris added. "I won’t push you to do anything you don't want to do. But you don’t have to deal with this alone."

Her lip quivered, and she closed her eyes tightly, her voice barely a whisper.

"I don’t even know what I’d do."

Chris’s heart ached for her, but he kept his tone steady.

"How about this." He said. "I’ll stay with you until you figure that out. If you want, I can take you to a hotel, or I can help you find somewhere else to stay for the night. But whatever you decide, I’m not going to leave you here."

She was silent for a long time, her shoulders rising and falling with each shaky breath. Finally, she nodded, just once.

"Okay." She said.

Chris exhaled slowly, relief washing over him.

"Okay." He echoed.

For the first time that night, she looked at him fully, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and cautious hope.

He opened his widest smile in response, leaning back slightly with his palms against the curb behind his back and glancing up at the sky.

"You know." He started, his tone casual. "This isn’t exactly the way I imagined spending my Wednesday night."

Her eyes scanned his face carefully, frowning, feeling like she was the one to destroy his day - or night.

"What do you mean?" She asked hesitantly, her voice hoarse.

Chris shrugged, being careful not to mention his career. He didn't want to overwhelm her.

"Well, usually on Wednesdays, I’m sitting in my van with my brothers, arguing over who gets to pick the fast-food spot. We’re probably debating something ridiculous, too."

That earned him the smallest, almost imperceptible twitch of her lips. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was something. It encouraged Chris to continue.

"My brothers are idiots, by the way." He said, his tone light. "Don’t tell them I said that, though. They'll get big heads thinking I actually pay attention to their nonsense."

Her brow rose slightly, curiosity tugging at the edges of her expression, her body instinctively leaning towards him.

"What are they like?"

Chris chuckled, throwing his head to the side, laying his cheek against his shoulder and looking at her eyes.

"They're amazing. Weird, but amazing. They're so funny in their individual way, always making me laugh so hard that sometimes I feel like I could pass out."

This time, she let out a soft, breathy laugh, and Chris felt a flicker of warmth in his chest. It was small, but it was progress.

"You’re close with them?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah." Chris said, nodding. "It’s hard not to be when you all live and do everything together. But they’re good guys. Annoying as hell, but good."

She looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting with the frayed edge of his hoodie sleeve.

"Must be nice." She murmured.

Chris’s smile faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly.

"It is." He admitted. "But, you know, we fight sometimes. Like, really fight. Last week, Matt threw a punch at me because I wouldn’t stop talking during his game."

Her lips twitched again, and this time, it was a small, shy smile.

"What were you saying?" She asked, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement.

"Oh, some random shit. Can’t even remember now. Probably something embarrassing, knowing me." Chris grinned. "Matt said I was ruining his concentration, but honestly, I think he just doesn’t appreciate my brain work."

She shook her head slightly, her smile lingering.

"You’re ridiculous." She said softly, almost reflexively, but as soon as the words left her mouth, her expression shifted. Her body tensed up, her shoulders pulling in as her eyes darted to him in alarm. "I didn’t mean-"

"Guilty as charged." Chris smoothly interrupted her, opening a smirk while looking at her, trying to express through his eyes that it was okay. "But, hey, if ridiculous is what it takes to make you laugh, then I’m all in."

Her looked down again at the pavement, scraping her shoes over the small rocks.

"Thanks." She said quietly.

"For what?" Chris asked, his voice gentle.

"For... keeping me company." She said, her gaze fixed on her lap. "I don’t feel... as bad right now."

Chris felt a lump in his throat but pushed it down, keeping his tone light.

"Anytime." He said. "I’ve got a whole arsenal of dumb stories and good jokes if you need them."

She looked at him then, her eyes softer than before.

"You’re really nice." She said, pressing her lips in a fine line.

Chris shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"I just don’t like seeing people hurt." He said honestly. "And, I don’t know, you seem like someone who deserves a lot better than... all this."

Her eyes filled with tears, and for a moment, Chris thought she might start crying again. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded.

"Thanks." She said again, her voice steadier this time.

Chris gave her a warm smile.

"No problem. Now, how do you feel about bad puns? Because I’ve got a killer one about a duck and a lawyer."

Her laughter filled the cold night air, causing a large smile to stretch across Chris's lips. He would do everything in his power to help this girl.