September 2018

"Team, this is the last inter-college tournament a lot of you guys are going to have. You better not mess this up because you will not get a do-over. No more matches you can prove yourself in. After this, the only thing left for you to do is to finish your exams and go home. Say it with me, you will not mess this up. "

Jane, our middle blocker, laughed, "Coach, c'mon. You know that we're obviously gonna nail this tournament. So, let's save the cringey stuff for later, huh?" With a mocking chuckle, she added, "We have the great Abigail Davis, don't we? What could possibly go wrong?"

If one noticed closely, they could sense the jealousy behind that veil of mockery. I wasn't the best player in the world, but I knew that I was good at what I did. I gave her a sugary sweet smile and casually flipped her off.

I didn't have the best relationship with my team because well, they were despicable. And the hatred was mutual between us. We weren't friends, oh hell no, but we still had some begrudging respect for each other's skills and a deep-rooted trust which can be seen only between fellow sportsmen.

Even though Jane sounded like she was full of herself, I had to admit that even I had high hopes for winning this tournament. We were good. And when I say good, I mean really, really good. Our College's volleyball team was filled with over competitive adrenaline junkies. I would expect nothing less from them.

I was sure that we would win because I couldn't not win. I didn't like volleyball enough to pursue a career in it, but it still was a part of me. It wasn't just that I wanted to win this, I needed to win this.

College, a very important chapter in my life, was about to end. And I'd be damned if I don't leave it with a bang.

Coach Harrison glared at her, "Overconfidence isn't going to win us this match, Ms. Evans, but team cooperation will. So, for the love of God, say it with me. You will not mess this up."

The sound of collective groans went up the air. But the coach didn't budge, he just placed his hands on his hips and gave us a look which clearly said, "If you don't do this, you might as well say goodbye to your legs."

We rolled our eyes in sync and said monotonously, "We will not mess this up."

Giving us a satisfied nod, he snapped his fingers, "Great. Now, as you all are going to absolutely nail this, give me another four laps around the field."

Everyone except me moaned in agony. I just grinned and adjusted my ponytail, getting ready for the run.

A sharp whistle tore through the air, "Davis! Come here!"

Nibbling my lips in question, I jogged towards him, "Yes, coach?"

His face, which often expressed dismay or anger, was now contorted with worry," Davis, you madwoman, did you even eat lunch before coming to the practice?"

I scratched the back of my neck and tried to lie, "Yes?"

He sighed, "Half a sandwich doesn't count as lunch, Abby." He crossed his arms across his chest and frowned, "Are you okay, kid? Is there something bothering you?"

The corners of my lips lifted up. Sawyer Harrison was a type of man that you can't help but look up to. He wasn't just our coach, he was kind of like our father figure, too. I liked to think that I was one of his favourites, though he kept insisting that he hates all of us barbarians. It was one of the sweetest things in the world. I nodded, "Yes, coach. Why do you ask?"

"You don't seem okay."

My smile fell. Was I okay? Me and Noah were going strong after all that Ethan mess. Apart from some petty fights which left a bitter taste in my mouth, everything was fine between us. Ups and downs are part of a healthy relationship. You aren't doing it right if you don't fight once in a while, right? At the end of the day, all that matters is that we are still together.

The anxiety attacks and my erratic sleeping cycles were a problem, but that was nothing new. So in theory, I was fine.

I gave him a slight grin, "Loosen up,  coach! I'm all good."

He waved his hand in dismissal, "I certainly do hope so. I can't afford to lose this match just because you were a careless idiot who forgets to eat. Now go, there's a spare sandwich in my bag. You better eat it or so help me God-"
***

Just as I was pressing the water out of my damp hair with a towel, there was a tentative knock on the door. I was supposed to help Sarah and their friends with their papers but right now, all I wanted to do was lie face-first on my bed and sleep forever.  I slowly limped towards the door -I had got injured my knee pretty badly when I dived during practice- and opened it, only to come face-to-face with Noah. 

"Hey," he said, an impish grin stretching on his lips.

I felt my muscles tighten in anticipation, something which always happened when he was around. The knot in my chest dissolved, only to be replaced by my thundering heartbeat. I tried to smile and immediately winced at the pain in my leg, "Hi."

I've read that after a while, you get used to your partner. No thundering heartbeat, no unnecessary blushing, no uncontrollable laughter. I personally think it's bullshit. I don't think I could ever get used the way his silver eyes on mine make me feel like I'm the most beautiful person alive. I could never get used to how his touch made my head go all dizzy. I could never get used to him.

The smile on his face disappeared without a trace.

Instantly, his hands were on the small of my back, gently guiding me to my bed. I raised my eyebrows in question, ignoring the sparks shooting up my spine.

Pushing me down on the bed, he sat in front of me, lines of worry forming on his forehead, "That looks bad, Abby. What happened?"

I shrugged and smiled ruefully, "Eh, just the same. I was clumsy, but still managed to take the ball."

He grimaced, "Does it hurt?"

"What? No- ow ouch! Ouch, ouch, ouch, Noah you dirty little-"

I cupped the wound tenderly and tried to glare at him. He had poked the skin close to the wound with a deadpan, almost as if to say, your lies don't work on me.

I pouted, "That hurt."

His eyes widened, "I'm so sorry, babe. I didn't think it would hurt that much."

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach at that nickname. Babe.

"Well, it still does hurt," I said, putting on my best wounded-puppy look. He looked so guilty that it made me want to giggle. And I never giggled.

I leaned towards him and pointed at my cheek, "Maybe a kiss will take the pain away?"

He laughed, a loud and joyous sound, "I can't believe I almost believed that I hurt you."

Tracing absent-minded circles in his hands, I whispered, "You could never."

He looked like he was going to cry. I continued, "Are you okay?"

He hesitated. I laced my fingers with his, saying nothing but my message was clear, you can tell me anything. He slowly shook his head, making my heart clench painfully.

It wasn't fair. He deserved better than abusive parents and an unsafe household. He deserved better than aching bones and tears. He just deserved better.

Nothing was okay. And for some reason, I was the one who felt exhausted and I hated myself for it. I should be grateful for my life. I should be happy. What was wrong with me?

Just for a second, I let my mind wander. I tried my best not to do that, because every time I started thinking, my mind just screamed that everything was wrong. There was always an unreasonable urge inside me telling me to just run away from everything and everyone. From Noah. But it never went further that, because I could never seem to look further. Life without him just seemed to be pitch black stretching on forever, a giant black hole. 

I let myself wonder how things would've been if we were different. If Noah was happier. If I was better. If I liked myself. If I had any idea of who I was. If we both weren't just so fucking broken.

Once again, my mind went blank. And I decided thinking about it wouldn't make much difference. I had what I had and I should be grateful, for fuck's sake. I hated myself because whatever I did, it was never enough. Something was always missing and my mind still wept for more, more, more.

Even with Noah by my side, I was far from okay. And I fucking hated myself for that.

I phrased my words as carefully as possible, "You can leave them, you know. Please. You don't have to go through this shit every day. You-"

"No, Abby," he hissed, "You don't understand. God, it's not all so fucking easy like you think it is. Not all of us live in a goddamn dreamland. And I'm okay. So please stop fucking worrying all the time."

His words stung, but I brushed them off, "You're right, I don't. But that doesn't make me any less worried. I'll always worry when it comes to you. I care, Noah."

His face crumpled and for a second, I thought I said something wrong and felt the panic set in. Before I could apologize, his lips met mine.

It was nothing like the kisses we've ever shared. Every time we kissed before, there was this desperation in both of us, like he was the man trying not to drown in the raging sea of his own mind, and I was the last trace of oxygen burning his lungs.

But this... This was different from all of them. This made my toes curl and made me see stars dancing around his head. This was slow, and deliberate like he was showing me that we had all the time in the world and that he's not planning to leave my side any sooner.

When he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead on mine, all I could stutter out was, "That was... wow."

Noah chuckled, cradling my face. I felt my face heat up and muttered, "Shut up."

But he just started laughing more, his eyes crinkling with mirth. I pulled him by his t-shirt and did the only thing which I knew would shut him up.

I kissed him and kissed him and kissed him.

And I didn't want to stop. It took every fiber of my being to make myself pull back and when I did, he looked like he was the one seeing stars.

"As much as I want to continue that," I breathed out, "I can't, because Sarah and her friends will be here and I don't think they'd really appreciate the scene awaiting them."

He pulled me into his arms and I immediately felt myself relaxing, "I saw them on the way here. I told them not to come."

"Hey!"

"Please," he mumbled, burying his face in my hair, "You didn't want to meet them anyway. Besides, I really don't think you should be hanging out with them."

I frowned, "Why so?"

He raised his fingers one by one lazily, "One, because I think they're trash. Two, because I don't like sharing."

I chuckled and gave him a quick peck on the lips, falling back on my bed, "Clingy much?"

He didn't respond. He just rolled his eyes and lay beside me, tangling our legs together, careful not to touch my injured knee. That gesture made every inch of my skin tingle; from the roots of my locks to the tip of my toes.

He smiled and all I could see was how strained it looked. I let my finger dance over his collarbone, "You're still upset. Why?"

He smiled again, and this time it seemed a little more genuine, "How'd you know? You always know if I'm upset."

I was the type of person who never knew anything for certain. If you asked me what shade my eyes were, what my favourite song was or anything at all about me, I would just stare at the wall uncomfortably because I didn't know. Didn't know what I liked and what I didn't. I knew nothing about myself.

But oh, how I knew him.

I traced the line of his stubble, "You smile when you're sad and when you don't want anyone to know that. But it shows. When you're happy, your whole body shows it. You literally vibrate with silent joy. But when you're sad, it's like someone turned off all the switches in you. No light, no sound, no genuine smiles."

He took hold of my palm and placed a gentle kiss on my knuckles, "Tell me more."

And so I did.

But I didn't tell him what I wanted to tell him the most. I didn't tell him what he looked like when he was angry.

I didn't tell him how his eyes; which were a cool, glittering grey would turn into venomous pools of mercury. I didn't tell him how with every word he spat, I could feel the mercury in his eyes and the red in his words seeping through my skin, slowly killing me. I didn't tell him about the sneaking feeling of fear in the pit of my stomach whenever he screamed because even though I knew he would never hurt me, my traitorous feelings didn't listen.

I didn't tell him about how he looked like when he whispered apologies and sweet nothings in my ear after every fight. I didn't tell him that every time I saw him, I was giving a piece of my heart away and I was fucking terrified to think of the day when I'd wake up and find that I had given all of me away. I was fucking terrified, because that day when I see that my heart is missing, I knew I wouldn't despair. I would search for those pools of nectar and venom and smile.

"You are my world," he said suddenly, gripping my hands tightly, "I don't know what I'd do without you. Those... those things I said, it was because I was scared. I was scared that you'd leave like everyone else in my life. I... I once loved a girl back in high school. She broke my heart. I gave my everything to her... And... and she just threw it away like it all meant nothing." teardrops dampened the pillow he laid his head on," It felt like deja vu. You are so much more important to me than she ever was. And the thought of losing you... it drives me crazy. "

Red is love. Red is strength. Red is the rim of his eyes as he stares up at me hopefully.

He looked fragile like he was showing me all of him and waiting for me to break him down. I placed a kiss on his cheek and stared at his teary eyes.

His raven hair was all ruffled and sticking out in all directions, but he still was the most handsome man I've ever known. I felt a painful tug in my chest.

"Do I remind you of her?" my voice sounded weaker than I intended it to be. I hated it.

"No. You are nothing like her. You are special. You care for me and don't take me for granted and I'm so damn lucky to have you." he sounded so sincere that it made me want to weep. I just buried my head on his chest and inhaled shakily.

"Gratitude," I said. We had this ritual where when situations got too overwhelming, we would simply say words which come to our head first. 

He was immediate to catch on, "Warmth."

"Unfamiliar."

"New. Strange. Wonderful."

I shivered when his teeth gently grazed my ear, "Afraid."

Noah didn't say anything. He simply pulled me closer like he was afraid I would fade away and sighed.

It was so hard to think back on the days without him. What was I without him? What was he without me? How did we become this? How is it that now life without him scared me to an extent where death seemed like a better option?

What have we done to each other?

"Don't ever leave me," he said, his voice small but I thought sensed something feral behind his veil of calmness.

I mouthed a silent 'I won't' and threw my arm around his waist. His eyes fluttered close and I just couldn't stop staring. I drank up all his features and heard the voices in my head chant his name. Noah, Noah, Noah.

Ignoring all the sirens in my head, I broke off another piece of my heart, wove it with the only other truth I knew more than I knew him, and whispered it to him,

"I love you."

* * *
A/n.

you guys are still reading? gasp. I love ya'll with all my heart <3

I sincerely hope you guys feel just as horrible as I felt while writing this. unlike popular opinion going on in wattpad that abusive and toxic behaviour is romantic, believe me, it's really, really not. this is what a toxic relationship looks like. maybe, noah loves abby in his own, twisted, way but that doesn't change the fact that this is toxic and he's breaking abby down. they are strongly dependent on each other (in all the wrong ways) and albeit noah's tragic backstory and all, his actions are simply wrong. condition of his mental health doesn't justify his behaviour. So please, if anyone reading this is in a relationship similar to this, I urge you to seek help. this is a toxic relationship at its ugliest.

tell me what you thought of this one and don't forget to like! until next time, my dudes <3