One week later: Connor's 25th birthday...

Troye's POV

I jolt awake at the sound of drawers being opened and slammed shut. My eyes search the room only to see that it's completely trashed. There's coat hangers scattered across the floor, a shirtless Connor angrily kicking clothes across the room.

My worried-boyfriend instincts kick in and I find myself pulling the covers off my fully clothed body. I step over an alarm clock and other miscellaneous items to get to him. "Connor! Connor! Babe, what are you doing?" I grab his arm just as he was about to knock more stuff off the top of my dresser.

"Don't fucking touch me!" He shouted, ripping his arm from my grip. I watch with wide eyes as he tore a shirt down the middle. "Connor, what's wrong? What happened?" I take the ruined shirt away from him, tossing it to the floor.

"Shut up!" He harshly shoved me away from him, making me tumble over backwards and trip over a shoe. I ended up falling on my wrists. I winced at the shooting pain in my left wrist. I think I just sprained it.

He put his hands on me once again.

Is it always gonna be like this? Are we always gonna go around in circles until we end up here again?

"Ouch, fuck." I cradle my wrist, scooting my butt across the floor until I got away from him. I stand up, looking directly into his menacing green eyes filled with hatred and rage. "Put the fucking shoes down and talk to me." His chest rapidly rises and falls, just like how the shoes fell out of his hands.

"N-No." He shook his head from side-to-side, moving the pick the shoes back up. One of his heavy boots hits me in the ribs, the other hitting me right in the gut.

Tears fall from my eyes as I leave our bedroom, making my way over to the coat closet in the foyer. I slip on my white Adidas, grabbing my coat and red beanie as well.

Just as I was about to open the door Connor stopped me, a look of hurt present in his green eyes that were filled with pure rage less than a minute ago.

"Where do you think you're going?" He's still not wearing a shirt. I just now noticed the fresh scratch marks that cover the expanse of his toned abs, chest and arms.

"Call me when you're done being an ass." I glower at him as I open the door and step out into the apartment complexes parking lot.

I cradle my wrist as I get into my car. I turn the radio up really loud and start the engine, quickly pulling out of the parking spot.

I don't know where I'm going, all I know is that I need to get out for a while.

***

"T-Troye?.. What are you doing here so early in the morning?" Tyler said upon seeing me at his doorstep in my pajamas.

I couldn't hold in the tears any longer and began to blubber like a baby. I fell into his arms, my head leaning against his steady shoulder. "It's okay, Troye. Let it all out." He brought me in his home and walked me backwards over to his couch where we sat side by side, my legs strewn across his lap.

I open my eyes for a second to see that man Tyler is always hanging around. Could it be his boyfriend? Roommate? He's never mentioned having a boyfriend to me. But you never really know. Our eyes locked for a millisecond and he dropped his bagel on the floor, quickly walking away in the opposite direction.

After around twenty or-so minutes of just straight up sobbing Tyler finally said something to me. "What happened?" He just-so happened to ask me the one question I can't answer.

"I-I don't wanna talk about it." I breathed out, grabbing a throw pillow off his couch to hold tightly. I wasn't using my brain and accidentally strained my left wrist even more.

That's the arm nobody can ever see.

"I can't really help you if I don't know what happened.." He paused, glancing at my hurt arm. "Did you hurt yourself?" Tyler reached out and touched my hurt wrist, causing me to scoot two feet away from him. I breathe heavily, feeling panic bubble up within me.

"I fell. Hard."

Both figuratively and literally.

"Can I see? It could be sprained or broken." He scoots closer to me, hesitantly reaching out for my hand. I wipe fresh tears away, taking a shuddering breath before I attempt to speak.

"I-It's just a minor sprain.. I can just get a brace for it." I stand up, making my way over to the door.

"Are you sure you want to drive yourself?" Tyler looked worried as he approached me.

"I'm fine."

"You can call me if you need anything. You know that, right?"

"Goodbye, Tyler." I say, shutting the door to his apartment and walking towards my car I had parked on the street.

Now would be a good time to go buy a wrist brace..

My phone rings pulling me out of my thoughts. I dig through the pocket of my sweatpants, pulling the little fucker out of it.

It's Connor.

I decide to answer it, pressing it up to my ear and waiting for him to speak.

"T-Troye.. I am so so sorry.." He sobbed out.

"Save it."

"Can you meet me at Starbucks? I've only got an hour before I have leave for a shoot."

"Sure." I end the phone call, pressing my forehead against the steering wheel and allowing the tears to stream down my face.

***

A/N

Ooh, DRAMA!!! Ha ha I'm a LIL bitch.. Anyways, did you enjoy this? Why does Troye always fall right back into Connor's arms when he knows what's gonna happen? I guess it's the same reason the mouse always attempts to grab the cheese off the mouse trap. They think maybe just maybe it'll be different for once. Maybe they'll make it out alive with with victory and prove everyone wrong. But you know what happens? They snap their fucking neck in half- just like what they see happen to their friends and family. THAT WAS SOME DEEP SHIT RIGHT THERE! Were those really my words? (yes). I'm so done with myself tbh...

Bye|Rachel.

Twitter|@Troylerflamingo