Your name is Nepeta Leijon.
It's friday and to be honest with yourself, you couldn't feel more miserable.
If you had a normal life, which you don't, you would be praising the lord that you get a break.
Unfortunately for you, your life isn't normal; Far from it.
In fact, you would much rather stay at work overnight than go back home.
You've tried. Oh God, have you tried.
You would ask your best friend, Feferi if you could stay overnight but a few factors stop you dead in your tracks.
One, your boyfriend would get way too… Overprotective. Yes, you think that that is an appropriate description of him.
Two, last time you did that, it was new year's eve, you were surrounded with alcohol and you were two best friends having a grand old time.
Yup… Best friends. Reaaaal good friends.
Things would have gotten really out of hand and you'd have done something… pretty gay.
… You can't trust yourself drunk anymore.
A chorus of honking behind you brings you back to the present.
You're at a green light and you're not going.
Oh lord, how long have you been idling there?
You switch directly into Panic mode and floor the gas pedal, once again forced to live in reality.
You got out of work late as it is and then you had to go to the store to buy food so your boyfriend doesn't kill- so your boyfriend doesn't starve.
Every day is like this. If you're even one second late getting your foot through the door, your boyfriend bea- Your boyfriend gets… overprotective and hugs you tightly. Very tightly.
You usually end up crying afterwards; And he doesn't care. He even laughs sometimes.
N- Not that he doesn't care! You're sure he cares to some extent.
He just doesn't know how to show it is all!
As for his laughing… He just has quite the crude sense of humor!
You've seen his good side! Once in awhile…
You should be used to this by now, you think. You should be adjusted to this abuse- You mean behavior pattern by now. You should be rock hard. Not letting anyone fuck with you anymore. But no…
Turn left.
You're still as pathetic as you were four years ago when you let him pick you up like a stray. Even more, due to you "recovering" from your eating disorder.
Sharp right, another left aaand… You're home…
You hesitantly brake and park the car, turning off the engine, your hand shaking.
Closing your eyes you exhale and grab the groceries from the passenger's seat and close the door with your foot.
You flinch at your own doing, hoping the door didn't slam too loud.
You walk on the gravel path feeling it crunching beneath your feet, looking for your apartment.
You unfortunately find your door number and open it.
Please don't squeak. Please don't squeak. Please don't-
The door squeaked. Very loudly.
"You're late."
The lights are dimmed.
You see a silhouetted figure stand and presumably turn towards you.
"I-I'm sorry, Gamzee. I just got out of work late a-and I had to buy groceries-"
"Shut up. I don't want your damn excuses."
Fear silently creeps its way into you as you stand there, waiting for the lion to strike.
"'M sorry…" You whisper closing the door behind you. "Were you worried?"
You walk away from the door and the foul stench of burning cannabis would make you gag and recoil if not for the fact that you have been desensitized to it.
You flick a switch, turning the lights on and see Gamzee practically gazing through you, his scleras tinted red and his eyelids lowered slightly, a slight frown on his face.
He holds a blunt between his pointer and middle fingers, smoke floating through the room.
"Damn right I was worried. I started thinkin' you was stayin' at that rich bitch's house again."
Gamzee puts out the blunt and places it in an ashtray on the coffee table.
He walks over to you, gently takes the groceries from you and starts to put them away silently.
After a few minutes, you hesitantly walk over to him.
"D-Do you need any help? Cuz I can-"
"Nah babe. Go and relax. I'm sure ya had a hard day."
You mutter a sheepish "Okay," and go lay down.
As soon as your hand touches the cushions, every muscle in your body relaxes and you sigh and let yourself practically fall into the couch, closing your eyes.
Maybe a minute goes by until the rustling of plastic bags and opening or closing of cabinets slows to a stop.
"What. The fuck," Your eyelids snap open in a second, now alert.
What did you do wrong this time?
You get off of the couch, keeping your arms close to your body.
He hears your foot make contact with the floor and immediately spins around furiously.
"W-What's wrong?"
"Where's my beer?"
Your blood runs cold.
You didn't forget his beer again, did you?
"Your what?"
"My beer, stupid bitch. Ya deaf, like ya sistah or some shit?"
You flinch away from him as he keeps getting closer and closer.
"I-I think I left it in the car…"
"Do I have to do everything myself around here?" Gamzee shouts.
When you don't respond, he sighs with an exasperated "Jesus Christ…", snatches the car keys from the counter and slams the door on his way outside.
In about a minute or so, you hear the car door slam and the clinking of several glass bottles along with approaching footsteps.
The door opens and you see Gamzee already in the process of chugging a bottle.
He swallows with a loud gulp and a satisfied sigh.
Walking back to the couch, he throws the empty bottle to you over his shoulder.
You catch the bottle awkwardly without saying a word.
Gamzee glances back at you with a sneer, not having heard a smash and plops down on the couch, effortlessly getting the cap off of another bottle with his bare hands, drinking it as if it were the first time he had had anything to drink for weeks.
A few seconds pass; Gamzee's voice rings snarkily just as you were subtly getting used to the quiet.
"Be a doll n' throw this one out too,"
He tosses the bottle to you and you make a pathetic valiant attempt to catch it but instead, it falls on the floor shattering into pieces.
You're sure you'll be the equivalent of that bottle in a matter of moments.
You flinch at the sound, jumping and holding the one remaining bottle close to your chest as if to say, 'See? I didn't fuck up completely! Please don't hit me…'
Gamzee is quick to notice your fatal mistake and stands from the couch, marching over already hovering over you.
"Clumsy ass bitch," He mutters before slapping the other bottle out of your hand. "Now clean this up. I'm finishin' my blunt and if you ain't done in ten minutes, it ain't gonna be pretty for you, sis."
He points at you for a few seconds before grabbing a lighter and his half-smoked blunt and walks upstairs to your- his room.
The door slams and you wince, shutting your eyes for a brief second.
It's quiet. Something you're hardly able to say anymore.
Not with Gamzee, or Pounce… Just your own thoughts.
You… You can't be sure which situation is worse.
Sighing, you walk to the right corner of the kitchen and pick up a wooden broom, your knuckles immediately turn white.
God, you're so weak… So pathetic… So…- Shut up. Shut UP, Nepeta.
Your self loathing isn't going to clean glass off of the kitchen tiles itself.
You begin sweeping the shards of glass closer to each other, hands already shaking.
Come on. It's not that difficult. You just move the little shards a bit and…
You drop the broom to the floor, it clanging loudly.
You think you heard a chuckle… You probably did… You definitely did.
As if he were watching, you eyes shift left and right to seek out an attack.
You bend over and pick the broom up and position it on a chair, taking a dust pan and sift the glass onto it.
You throw the remaining shards into the recycling bin and close the garbage, acknowledging your success and you feel…
Gamzee's coming back. Act casual. Go… Go sit on a chair. No, no, NO! Not that chair! That's Gamzee's chair!
You scramble out of his chair to your rightful place, the opposite end of the dining table.
As far away from him as possible.
You sit down, crossing your legs awkwardly hoping this is enough to convince him that you've been done with the task he's given you long ago.
Gamzee's booted foot touches the bottom stair and is once again in your sight; You are in his.
He looks dazed. Well… More dazed than usual.
There's trouble in the air, you can smell it.
Or… Is that just weed?
Gamzee strolls over to you, seemingly calm.
Maybe he just needed a break?... From you?
His steps falter as he gets closer and closer. He stops and you feel him breathing on your neck.
You're trying to stay still, trying so desperately not to shake and give him affirmation that he's scaring you and he's superior in every way possible but… God DAMN it, why is he doing this? You did what he asked!
You whip around in your chair to make him stop and listen but as soon as you open your mouth, he claims your lips in a rough kiss.
Your eyes widen as he kisses you harder, pushing you into the table and taking away the words that were once on your tongue.
You whimper as the table digs deeper into your spine while his hand wanders into your ginger hair and he pulls it, suddenly jerking you away from the embrace.
"Where's dinner, kitten?" He growls. "Didn't I tell ya to make some grub?"
"N-No…?"
"Don't fuckin' lie to me. I tell ya t' do somethin' and ya do it!" He tugs on your hair again, balling your hair into a fist.
You want to pull away, fight, something but your scalp is practically burning.
"Gamzee, please… You're hurting me…" You barely whisper.
"What'd you say to me, skank?"
"T-There's Dominoes and some salad in the fridge…"
He smiles smugly, releasing his grip on your hair. "Now that's what I like to hear."
He practically slithers away from you and over to the fridge.
You feel yourself beginning to salivate over the smell of food… the thought of food.
God, you're so pathetic… Why are you so pathetic?
You always let yourself be manipulated by food you know you can't eat.
But the tantalizing grease and cheese of pizza… (374).
Or… maybe just a bite of that salad… (108)
Wait… What is he doing?
He… He's pouring italian dressing all over it! (200)
No… No, no, NO! Is he trying to kill you?!
You'll be sentenced to days, probably weeks of exercise to work off that weight.
The sickeningly salty scent of food grows stronger as your boyfriend walks back to the table.
200. 374. 200. 374. 200. 374. 200…
You swallow and tentatively reach a hand out for the plate of salad but Gamzee's hand practically engulfs yours.
"Ah ah ah~" He taunts. "I wouldn't be so sure about that,"
His grip tightens around your hand. "Have we been on the scale today?"
You freeze up. "No,"
Sighing, he picks you up over his shoulder and walks into the bathroom, dropping you by the scale.
"Anythin' in yo' pockets?"
You shake your head side to side, keeping your hands now tightly wound around the weights in your pockets.
You take off your boots and stand on the scale: your best friend and your worst enemy.
98 pounds.
You look up at him for approval and you see a slight sign in his eyes with a nod.
Not too much… Not too little… You're just right. For now.
He takes your hand delicately in his and walks you back to the table.
After you sit down, he hands you a bottle of water from the fridge and goes to sit across the table from you.
You look up at him again, waiting for his approval for you to eat.
He smiles slightly with that big, goofy smile of his and you immediately move the plate closer to you and begin scarfing down the salad no matter how many calories it has.
You feel as if you haven't eaten in days… Or weeks.
Or maybe you purged not too long ago and you just don't remember the act that left you with an empty stomach.
In a matter of what feels like seconds, the entire plate of salad is gone and… You feel sick.
Your stomach growls loudly for practically all the world to hear. You place a hand on your belly and see that Gamzee's expression shifted to that of… concern.
"You aight, babe?"
He stands and places the crust of his second piece of pizza on the plate and walks over to you, holding an arm out for you.
You gag when you open your mouth to talk, throwing a hand to your face.
You immediately realize that you didn't have approximately thirty minutes before you throw up. You have less than thirty seconds.
Upon realizing this, you push his arm away unintentionally in the action of running to the bathroom.
You fall to your knees and lift the toilet seat cover, immediately beginning to retch and cough.
You knew you shouldn't have eaten that fast.
Gamzee rushes into the bathroom and sits beside you. At least you think so. You can't see him. Wherever he is, he gently places his hand on your back, patting and rubbing the area.
You feel your spine and your shoulder blades jutting out and you wonder if he can feel them too.
You don't know which would be worse: not knowing about your bones jutting out and Gamzee pointing it out or you already knowing about it and bringing it to his attention.
You're thirty two pounds underweight and you can't say you're happy about it.
Your dinner is thrown up into the toilet bowl in a mess of green and brownish sludge and leaves that have yet to be digested.
You gasp for air, hot tears running down your cheeks as you feel your face getting redder with each heave.
As you slowly overcome your nausea, you lift your head disorientedly.
Gamzee holds you in his arms, rocking you gently.
He always gets like this. He does care, you know it, He just… doesn't know how to show it.
You lay your head on his chest, still catching your breath,
He rakes his fingers through your hair silently.
You look up at him, his brown eyes set on nothing in particular. He just… stares.
Your eyes wander the room as you yawn softly, feeling the effects of purging.
Gamzee notices this and smiles softly. "I love you,"
"I love you too," You whisper with a faint smile.
Your eyes slowly close and you drift out of consciousness.
Your breathing slows. All you can hear is his voice. All you can feel is his greasy fingers running through your hair.
You want to recoil from his touch because something doesn't feel right but you just… can't… do… it…
You wake in your bed with his hands on your hips and his nails digging into your skin.
"Wakey, wakey kitty," He growls in your ear.
The hairs on your neck stand up as you feel his breathing in… and out… on the nape of your neck as if he were about to strike.
You open your eyes wide with a start, moving your hand to stop him but he quickly grabs your hand with one of his own and traps your hand in his, still clawing at your skin.
His hand begins to move down your thigh and you feel blood rising to the surface but you can't stop him…
You look at him in horror but he's too distracted with taking off your panties to care.
He practically rips them off of your body almost hungrily and bites his lip, grinning.
You try to move away from him but he rolls over and positions himself on top of you.
"Where do you think you're goin'? You're not runnin' from me this time,"
His hands wander to your shirt and you have no choice but to let them force themselves onto your breasts.
He creeps around your body and unbuckles your bra strategically before throwing it across the room with another hungry growl.
He fondles your breasts in his hands, pinching and grabbing and scratching and you look away.
You can't watch him do this to you. Not again. Never again.
He grabs your head and turns it forward, giving you whiplash.
You flinch away from his touch, he moving his head down.
He takes your breasts in his hands and your nipples in his teeth.
You cry out but Gamzee, of course, is not swayed as you dig your nails into the mattress.
"Once I'm through with ya, you'll be nothin' but bones n' skin on this bed…"
His hand reaches your crotch area and he looks up at you, a malevolent smirk on his face while his other hand covers your mouth.
You feel a bulge poking through his boxers; the inevitability of the situation suddenly makes you want to cry.
You want to scream, cry for help but no one will save you.
You've tried too many times.
At this point, you can only assume that nobody comes for young girls who cry rape.
'But he's your boyfriend…' 'You must have been asking for it.' 'What were you wearing?' 'Don't act like you didn't enjoy it.' 'He was just joking around.' 'He was just trying to please you, slut!'
You try to move, squirm, anything that can aid you in escape but his weight holds you helplessly to his content.
He suddenly shoves his fingers into your vagina with no warning causing you to jump.
"Fuck, you're so tight, Nepeta. Loosen up, will ya?"
His idea of a solution is jamming his fingers farther and farther into your body.
If you hadn't already known in the first place, he's clearly getting himself off.
He bites his lip, smirking and a part of you wants to wither away; by part of you, you mean all of you.
You glance down at the bulge now grazing your stomach, which he notices (of fucking course).
"Ohh… I see what's goin' on here…"
"N-No…"
His so-called sweet nothings are more like barbed wires to your senses as he flips you over, shoving your face into the pillow.
He smacks and grabs at your ass, chuckling.
You can already feel the bruises forming.
You hear him unbuckling his belt with a clearly satisfied sigh.
"Now… Don't you move. It'll make it easier for the both of us."
Later, you received a call from none other than Feferi Peixes.
Thank God, an excuse to pry yourself away from him.
"Um… Babe?"
"What?" He answers groggily.
"The phone's ringing…"
"I don't give a flyin' fuck."
"Well, I do," You spit back at him… softly… without any trace of anger… at all.
"Fine, whatever. It best not be Peixes."
"I'm sure it isn't…" You trail off when you see the caller ID.
It is her…
Your heart flutters a bit as you tentatively pick up your phone from the nightstand.
You clear your throat. "H-Hello?"
"Hey Nep!"
"O-Oh! Hi Feferi!"
You sounded much too excited to hear her voice. Damn.
Your hear Gamzee shoot up from the bed as soon as he hears you happy.
"What?!" He practically shouts in your ear.
Gamzee looms over you. In the corner of your eye, you see his hands in a position to wrap around your throat.
You quickly dodge his attempt, continuing the conversation with Feferi.
"So how are you?"
"I'm doing f-fine!" Your voice quavers.
"Are you sure?"
God, you feel your heart flutter again. She cares about you. She really cares about you.
"Mhm. 'S just cold," You mutter, looking at Gamzee for a second. "How about you?"
"Hang up," Gamzee growls in your ear.
"Oh, I'm purr-fect" She replies with that adorable giggle of hers she does when she makes a lame joke and knows it and it's the cutest shit ever. "Profits are skyrocketing since my cousin Jane took control of Crockercorp! We-"
"I said…" Gamzee pauses, talking through his teeth. You turn around to look at him. "Hang up!"
He slaps you across the face and you whimper softly, determined to keep your cell phone in your grasp.
Speaking of which, Gamzee snatches for your phone.
You jump off of the bed, running to the bathroom and locking the door, pressing your back against it.
"Is everything okay, Nepeta? I heard Gamzee in the background."
"Oh, yeah…" You fake a laugh. "We're just having a little argument." You lie.
"Oh,"
A moment of silence on her end.
"Well… I was thinking of coming over-"
"Yes," You interrupt her unintentionally, quickly catching yourself and apologizing.
Feferi giggles softly and your heart practically explodes.
You want to tell her you love her, you need her, you want her but…
"When should I come around?"
Gamzee slams against the other side of the door, grunting.
You squeak, nearly falling to the bathroom floor.
"W-Whenever! Listen, I gotta go," You quickly reply.
"Oh, oka-" You hang up before either of you can fully say goodbye.
Gamzee continues banging on the door until you tentatively unlock it.
When the door immediately slams against the wall, you force yourself to swallow a shriek.
Gamzee looks directly at you, then the phone in your hand at your side.
His expression is fury, as it likely has been.
No mercy. No mercy. No mercy. No mercy. No mercy on you.
His hands grip your shoulders and your vision starts to blur as he begins shaking you.
"You… Stupid… Worthless… Idiotic…" He trails off before eventually claiming your lips in a kiss.
He bites your bottom lip hard enough you taste iron but you don't care.
You close your eyes, tension leaving your body. You drop your phone to the floor in the process and you couldn't care less.
He loves you. You know he does.
A few hours later, the doorbell rings and you feel your heart leap into your throat.
She's here!
You stand up as soon as the sound registers. "Coming!"
How's your hair? Does your clothing have any wrinkles? Are your eyebrows ruffled? Do you look okay? Are your cuts visible? Does your breath stink?
Okay, Leijon. Calm down.
She;s your friend. Say it with me. Friend.
Not gal pal. Not girlfriend. Not gillfrond. Not partner.
Just really great…
Your open the door to see beautiful, kind, talented, gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous Feferi.
"Hii!" She greets you.
Friends.
She initiates a loving hug; Her embrace practically thaws and refreezes your heart.
You suddenly can't breathe again because you feel him burning a hole through the back of your head.
Don't let him know that he's winning.
You turn around, a fake smile plastered on your face.
"Gamzee! Look who's here!" You turn her around, along with yourself to face him.
Gamzee turns his head, glancing at her with a look of disdain.
The atmosphere is full of dissonance already.
You feel Feferi's hand tighten a bit.
"Feferi."
"Gamzee."