Fill: 2/? Getting Some Distance (Dubcon, abuse, internalised fatshaming, homophobic bullying)chessFebruary 10 2013, 17:08:46 UTC
I'm in the way of fallin' down I won't let you go that far now
----
The first time he got angry with her, she wasn't sure what she'd done wrong. She was cheerfully eating a burger with some people from her political science class - it'd got late while their tutorial group were arguing about Tocqueville and whether his views on the position of women made his other opinions irrelevant to the modern world - when he took her by the shoulder and spun her round to face him.
She just sat there, slightly dazed, at the sudden context shift. She hadn't thought people actually did that to each other in real life. "What?" she asked, as her classmates craned around to see what could have merited this kind of interruption.
"We need to talk," he'd said, seemingly oblivious to the glares he was starting to get and to the fact that her shoulders kind of hurt now and that she was in the middle of eating, for goodness' sake.
"Couldn't you just text me like a normal human being?" she'd retorted, conscious of her audience. "I'm eating. I'll come over right away after, okay?"
But it was clear that it wasn't okay, and that he was much more willing to make a scene than she was, so she sighed in an exaggerated fashion and scooped up the rest of her food into a couple of napkins. "Gotta dash," she said, apologetically.
There were some worried glances, but if she wasn't going to make a scene, they weren't going to start one either.
Apparently he'd found someone from her old school, who'd told him about the whole lesbian thing, and for some reason he was incandescent with rage that she hadn't been the first to tell him all about it. She laughed it off, told him she'd just been doing it to piss off the people who didn't appreciate her, and worried a bit that he was so agitated about it.
But he seemed to accept it - they had sex, anyway, slightly rough but she told herself she kind of liked that, and wasn't make-up sex meant to be hot, anyway?
----
I'm in the way of fallin' down I won't let you got that far now
----
The first time he hit her, she knew exactly what she'd done 'wrong'. She was sitting on his bed, and he'd sat down at his computer and asked her what she was doing for Spring Break. She'd started to explain the awesome road-trip she was going to take with a couple of the girls from her course, and suddenly she was colliding with the wall behind the bed, trying to work out what had just happened to her.
He looked at his own hand in disbelief for several seconds, and then it was all, "Baby, are you okay?" and apologies, and declarations that he didn't know what had come over him and he'd never meant to hurt her, but she was just kind of dazed through it all.
And it was pretty clear that he had plans for their Spring Break; whatever her plans had been were irrelevant. Apparently he'd thought she only hung out with 'those bitches' because they were doing course work together, not because she had friends that weren't him. Eventually, she let herself relax into his embrace; after all, he was way out of her league. Why shouldn't he be enough for her?
People asked her about the bruising, of course, but it was so easy to tell them that she'd walked into a door when she'd had one too many; no-one seemed to think that was unlikely or remarkable.
It was a couple of weeks later when one of the friends she'd cancelled Spring Break plans with made the connection, and awkwardly tried to raise her concerns over coffee.
"So..." she'd said. "What really happened with that black eye?"
"I told you: door," Darcy had maintained. But her friend had just sipped her drink and looked at her. "Okay, so it was actually a wall," she'd admitted. "And, uh, I think the wall hit the back of my head, not the front."
"And you're heading out on Spring Break with this fine human being?"
"He was sorry," Darcy had protested. "I shouldn't have planned things without asking him. You should have seen him, he couldn't believe he'd done it, couldn't apologise enough. I think he's learned his lesson."
"Just... stay safe, okay?" her friend had asked her.
I won't let you go that far now
----
The first time he got angry with her, she wasn't sure what she'd done wrong. She was cheerfully eating a burger with some people from her political science class - it'd got late while their tutorial group were arguing about Tocqueville and whether his views on the position of women made his other opinions irrelevant to the modern world - when he took her by the shoulder and spun her round to face him.
She just sat there, slightly dazed, at the sudden context shift. She hadn't thought people actually did that to each other in real life. "What?" she asked, as her classmates craned around to see what could have merited this kind of interruption.
"We need to talk," he'd said, seemingly oblivious to the glares he was starting to get and to the fact that her shoulders kind of hurt now and that she was in the middle of eating, for goodness' sake.
"Couldn't you just text me like a normal human being?" she'd retorted, conscious of her audience. "I'm eating. I'll come over right away after, okay?"
But it was clear that it wasn't okay, and that he was much more willing to make a scene than she was, so she sighed in an exaggerated fashion and scooped up the rest of her food into a couple of napkins. "Gotta dash," she said, apologetically.
There were some worried glances, but if she wasn't going to make a scene, they weren't going to start one either.
Apparently he'd found someone from her old school, who'd told him about the whole lesbian thing, and for some reason he was incandescent with rage that she hadn't been the first to tell him all about it. She laughed it off, told him she'd just been doing it to piss off the people who didn't appreciate her, and worried a bit that he was so agitated about it.
But he seemed to accept it - they had sex, anyway, slightly rough but she told herself she kind of liked that, and wasn't make-up sex meant to be hot, anyway?
----
I'm in the way of fallin' down
I won't let you got that far now
----
The first time he hit her, she knew exactly what she'd done 'wrong'. She was sitting on his bed, and he'd sat down at his computer and asked her what she was doing for Spring Break. She'd started to explain the awesome road-trip she was going to take with a couple of the girls from her course, and suddenly she was colliding with the wall behind the bed, trying to work out what had just happened to her.
He looked at his own hand in disbelief for several seconds, and then it was all, "Baby, are you okay?" and apologies, and declarations that he didn't know what had come over him and he'd never meant to hurt her, but she was just kind of dazed through it all.
And it was pretty clear that he had plans for their Spring Break; whatever her plans had been were irrelevant. Apparently he'd thought she only hung out with 'those bitches' because they were doing course work together, not because she had friends that weren't him. Eventually, she let herself relax into his embrace; after all, he was way out of her league. Why shouldn't he be enough for her?
People asked her about the bruising, of course, but it was so easy to tell them that she'd walked into a door when she'd had one too many; no-one seemed to think that was unlikely or remarkable.
It was a couple of weeks later when one of the friends she'd cancelled Spring Break plans with made the connection, and awkwardly tried to raise her concerns over coffee.
"So..." she'd said. "What really happened with that black eye?"
"I told you: door," Darcy had maintained. But her friend had just sipped her drink and looked at her. "Okay, so it was actually a wall," she'd admitted. "And, uh, I think the wall hit the back of my head, not the front."
"And you're heading out on Spring Break with this fine human being?"
"He was sorry," Darcy had protested. "I shouldn't have planned things without asking him. You should have seen him, he couldn't believe he'd done it, couldn't apologise enough. I think he's learned his lesson."
"Just... stay safe, okay?" her friend had asked her.
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