тнe вlood ιѕ rare and ѕweeт aѕ cнerry wιne (sad abuse thread, major tw.)

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TY!

Okay! Now to the starting post. Where do ya think we should begin? Bryce could be out drinking and partying, with Emmett at home; we could have them together at the beginning of the rp; we could start right when Bryce gets back; or anything you want?

also sorry for the delay on our other rp, i'm trying to find the perfect type of beast my character should be?? yikes i just like it to be perfect but it's hard lmao xD

Emmett had hardly slept. He kept tossing and turning in his bed. He would sit there for a while, try to read a bit, and then try to sleep once again. But it never worked. He was too scared.

See, no matter how used to his boyfriend leaving he got, he never really got used to it. At least not enough for it to not bother him. So there he was, in the middle of the living room, having given up on achieving any rest for that night. Emmett's legs were pulled up and pressed against his chest, one arm holding them close in a protective position. In his other hand, he held a coffee mug filled with then-cold coffee. He hadn't put enough creamer in it, but he couldn't bring himself to stop drinking it, no matter how bitter and almost gag-inducing it seemed to be. An opened book lay beside him. Generally, readingg was the thing that consoled him when no one else could. Or at least when no one else would. Currently he was on "The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet"- a soap opera about space. He liked it because it had lgbt characters without having those romances be the entire point of the book. Lgbt books tended to be cheesy when they were written that way.

But he left it open and beckoning. As much as he wanted to get lost in a different world, full of happy aliens and loving relationships, he couldn't do it. Reading was only good when things weren't messing with your head. And besides, when he got the way he was, sometimes a happy ending wasn't the thing he needed. He sighed softly and glanced at the traditional clock that hung on the wall. 6:00 in the morning. His eyes then travelled to the door.

6:00 in the morning.
And no Bryce.

Suddenly, the second issue was "ammended". If having your aggressive boyfriend slam into the room, blaringly drunk, could be considered the ammendment to a problem. "Bryce!" Emmett's tone was bright and excited nonetheless. Being alone never quite sat well with him. "You're home." He smiled gently and stepped forward, though the smell of liquor was repulsive. Multiple feelings pulsed through him, but he suppressed most of them. The anger he felt at being left to cry alone couldn't be stopped, however, and his soft smile melted away. His expression turned cold, and he looked at the ground as he waited for an explanation.

Not even being remembered hurt. It meant that he was REALLY drunk. And the explanation that he got... Was less than satisfactory. He piped up quickly, voice raising despite the low sinking fear he felt in his chest. "You- You were gone! For like the entire night! Do you have any idea how afraid I was for you?" His voice got softer, and nearly caught in his throat. "I've gotten pretty much no sleep. I was so worried that you would try to drive pr do something stupid that I couldn't even read." It was true, technically, but that wasn't really why he was afraid. He was afraid that Bryce would see someone else in the bar and be so drunk that he would cheat. Emmett's mind went there often- As much as he adored his boyfriend, he didn't think very highly of him. Or his morals.

"You can't just do that to me, it's not fair." He whispered to himself. He didn't want to start anything, but he wanted to get across how mad he was about it. And how sad. His voice raised without him even trying to, and he sneered, "You smell disgusting. You are disgusting." Emmett was aware that he was being cruel, but he also thought that he deserved to be able to yell a little bit. He'd been downright miserable. His generally quiet demeanor was broken down and replaced with snappy insults and quick chastising.

He thought that he deserved to be able to be rude. However, that didn't stop Emmett from instantly gasping and stepping back once he said it. "I'm sorry." He swiftly tried to make up for it with multiple apologies. "I didn't mean it, I'm just upset, you.. you aren't gross." He swallowed nervously and averted his eyes to the floor. Eva warned me about this. She told me that I would snap like this in a relationship that was controlling, but GOD she doesn't even know half of the story...! Emmett was freaking out. His words were stammered, and his thoughts were on overdrive. He could tell an anxiety attack was coming on, but e kept the symptoms as controlled as possible by breathing slowly and glaring at his feet to try and get centered. Emmett's eyes slid shut and he did his best to stay calm.

(abuse is still gonna happen, right?)

Emmett's eyes squeezed tighter as he was shaken. He could feel tears starting to come up between his two eyelids. He didn't want to do anything rash, but he had basically reached his breaking point. His eyes opened, and in one wuick movement he slapped away his boyfriend's arms and took two big strides backwards. His back hunched slightly and he snarled, "I'm not freaking out!" The tears that were framing his pale face were telling a different story. So were his trembling hands. And his protective posture that made him look like a cornered animal. "You- You're the reason why this is happening!" That wasn't what he actually believed, but what he wanted to believe. Deep down he thought it was all his fault, like somehow he wasn't good enough, and was driving someone close to him to alcohol and staying out late. "You just keep leaving! I- I don't think you're awful, but dammit, you sure are acting like it!" Back once again to insults and trying to console homself by letting out his anger. No longer were his feelings being suppressed. "And- And I get that you got a safe ride home today or whatever, but you didn't even recognize me when you walked in the door. I think- I think I have a right to believe you might do something dumb!" He wasn't proud of the direct display of anger, but it admittedly felt good to let out.

His posture sunk down again and he looked less agressive, and more empty. Emmett didn't speak any more as he stared at Bryce. He barely even moved besides the occasional shifting of weight between his two feet. He turned his head to the left and raised a still-shaking hand up to rub his palm underneath his wet eyes. His changed gaze looked anywhere but forward. He didn't want to smell alcohol. He didn't want to see an afraid- but clearly drunk- Bryce. What he wanted to do was go see Eva, but no doubt she'd be asleep until 2 in the afternoon since it was the weekend. He felt alone. At least not as alone as I was before.. He reminded himself.

Emmett didn't expect what happened next. In truth, he expected an apology. That paired with the fact that he wasn't looking meant that he stumbled back and fell straight on his a**. The back of his head hit the wall, making a small dent. After the initial pain and gasp of surprise, he looked up and his anger came back full-fledged. "I- I'll do whatever the f**k I want!" He yelled, standing up perhaps a bit too quickly. He got dizzy and leaned against the wall, then got back to his feet fully. "You don't control me!" He tried to defend himself by giving a warning punch, but his vision blurred a bit as tears came back and so his attempt wasn't successful. "If you touch me when I don't want you to, then I can!" He was acting far more defiant than what he knew was good for him. But his boiling emotions stopped him from seeing the fact that he was fighting a very bad battle.

Emmett's breath flew out of him, and he hit the ground instantly. He curled up into a little fetal-position ball to try and let his shins absorb most of the kicks, which only worked after he'd been kicked twice in the side. His ribs would probably bruise. And no doubt his shins would. He took his arms and covered the back of his neck, the way he'd learned in a self-defense class long ago. Emmett never thought he'd actually have to use it, which was why he complained at the time that Eva was making him go through with it.

'Eva!' He'd complained, though a smile had graced his features. 'I'm never going to need to use this! We live in a good neighborhood.' But nevertheless, she continuously berated him with texts once he left her house until he agreed to take the class with her. Turned out he DID have a use for the things he learned.

When the kicks finally stopped, Emmett didn't un-curl. He stayed on the floor with his eyes squeezing shut and his tears streaming down. He struggled to catch his breath, and refused to speak a word. He didn't want to make things worse. He just wanted to stay there, stay silent, and hopefully stay conscious. Nothing had ever been that bad before, and it genuinely shocked him that he had to deal with it. That he would have to later tend to wounds caused by someone he loved. Slowly his eyes opened so he could look up and see if it was safe to stand.