The first time he hit her he told her that it was an accident.

"How the hell can your fist accidentally make contact with my face?" Maya yelled, holding her bloody nose.

"I won't do it again—I promise. I love you."

"…I love you, too."

That night, he stayed with her and apologized every few minutes. And she accepted them.

The second time he hit her he told her he was just angry.

"So you use me as a punching bag?" Maya yelled, holding her head in pain.

"I was just really angry—that won't happen again. I promise…I love you."

"…I love you, too."

That night, he held an icepack to her head and kissed it every few minutes. And she smiled every time he did.

The third time he hit her he blamed it on her.

"You shouldn't have even talked to that guy," he said angrily. "I'm only trying to teach you a lesson."

"I know," Maya said, holding her throbbing arm. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I love you."

"I love you, too."

He would hit her or throw things at her and then apologize, and she accepts his apologies and spends the next morning putting on makeup to cover up her bruises. She told herself countless times that he would change. He was just going through a lot—he will stop soon and never hit her again.

It went on for months.

Maya wasn't sure why she always went back to him. He constantly hit her and tried to control her whole life. She wasn't sure if she was just afraid of leaving, or afraid that if she did no one else would ever love her. Because she knew he really loved her, and she really loved him. Even though he had a funny way of showing it.

Maya never told anyone. She thought she could handle things herself and she doesn't need anyone's pity. She didn't want to be seen as some weak girl who let's her boyfriend beat on her. And even if she did want to tell someone, she knew she couldn't. Because he would tell her if she did tell anyone he would beat them and her harder than she could ever imagine. She told herself he didn't mean that.

She told herself that a lot. She told herself that it wasn't his fault—it was hers. She shouldn't have looked at that other guy or wore a tank top out in public. It wasn't hit fault that he only wanted his own girlfriend for himself. It was okay. She told herself it was okay for him to tell her what to wear and where to go and when to come home. She told herself it was okay for him to hit her every time she came home late. Because she knew he wanted her home right after work and nowhere else.

He wouldn't let her see anyone—not even Riley. Her best friend would constantly ask her why she didn't visit her anymore. Maya always said it was just that she was very busy. She told her she would visit her soon. But she never did. And her abusive boyfriend wasn't the only reason why she never visited her. Deep down, Maya knew that.

She said things would get better. That is was not even that bad. Because whenever he'd hit her and then apologize, she looked into those green eyes and couldn't help but accept them. Because she had always liked his green eyes.

She constantly denied the fact that he looked extremely similar to a certain other green-eyed, blond haired man. Constantly.

A/N: Will I ever learn how to make good endings? The world may never know…

Ugh okay this didn't come out the way I wanted at all. I wanted this to be much longer. This is like a preface I guess so it started off a bit slow, I know. But shit will go down, I'll tell you that.

So this is going to be a multichap, but only about 3 or 4 chapters or something. And this is high angst. If you can't handle sad endings, you may want to pack your bags right now and run—run like the wind. Or if you're an angst sucker like me and like reading stories that break your heart as well, you may want to stick around.

Please R&R and/or fav and follow. Just putting that out there.

Xo

-Yana