"You've had years of chances."
From the second that she closes the car door, she knows something is wrong, but she can't quite put her finger on it. She listens to Evan's voice, the words flying straight over her head, and she can't tell if it's the buzzing of the radio or her own thoughts that are drowning him out. And then suddenly, it comes to her.
"Evan, where are we going? You can't drive home after you've had a drink." She expects him to go 'oh, damn, you're right', or perhaps agree and take her straight home, but he does neither. He keeps his eyes fixed on the road, his lips pressed thin and in a steely sort of grimace.
"Evan?" Her voice isn't upset, just exhausted and confused. She can't deal with him, with them, right now. She wants a cup of tea and ten hours of sleep, not Evan. And drinking only makes her worse. She barely notices as they pull up at his house, her head too numb to concentrate. She feels like she did that one time she smoked weed, her head blurry and full of fuzz.
She hears Evan stop the car and open the door, watches him walk around to the passenger side and offer her his hand. She shakes her head, climbing out of the car herself and stumbling after him to his door. She watches him fumble with the key and the lock, shivering in the bitter night chill, her arms wrapped around herself.
"What do you want to drink?" He asks as they enter the house, throwing his keys in the bowl.
"What's the strongest thing you have?"
—
She's been at Evan's for a few hours now, drinking and crying and drinking and crying on repeat. Now they're both sat on the couch, Chloe trying to retain her tears and Evan watching her.
He leans over on the sofa and presses a gentle kiss on her cheek. She looks up in staggered surprise, the alcohol having already lowered her reflexes, making her slow. She doesn't react at all, just stares at him, and he interprets this as the go ahead. He edges closer towards her, pressing more kisses on her face, down to her mouth. She doesn't respond, her jaw slack, barely processing what was going on.
"Evan, get off." She finally finds the words, forcing them out of her mouth like poison, but he captures her mouth again before she can protest any further. She moves her hand up to his face to bat him away gently, just needing to let him know that she doesn't want this. They're both drunk, she thinks, neither of them do.
"Evan, stop." She tries to grab his hand with her own, tries to remove it herself, but this only makes him dig his fingers into her neck even more. He moves another hand to her knee, asserting his dominance, and she places her own over his.
"Evan, no. Not tonight. Not ever. I've had the worst day, I don't want to make any more mistakes." Chloe breaks away from his kiss, turning her head to stare at his living room.
"Chloe, I'll make you feel better. I always do. I'm the only one you can trust now, remember?" His voice is calm but it stirs the sick feeling inside her. She looks up to meet his eyes, and then they glaze over as she sits backwards on the sofa. He takes this as permission to continue.
By the time she's staggering out of the house, it's gone eleven. She hurts, all over, her head and her body. But, just before she shuts the back door, she glances at the table and realises- Evan's glass is still full.
Dom is sitting on the sofa when he gets the call. He's got a curry in the microwave, Love Island on the telly, and apart from his family being uprooted and his childhood destroyed, life is good. So when his phone starts buzzing, he sighs in disappointment until he sees the caller ID. Chloe. He picks it up immediately, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he pierces the plastic on the curry with a fork. All he can hear down the phone are shaky breaths and pounding feet, and what sounds like heavy panting.
"Chloe?" He asks, confused. He can hear her on the other side of the line, and she sounds as if she's been running.
"Can you pick me up?" Her voice is scared, and timid. She lets out a small sob after she speaks, clutching her hand to her mouth and leaning against a lamppost.
"Where are you?" Dom asks, already walking to the door of his flat. Just as he's slipping on a pair of trainers, she answers.
"Corner of Smith street." She sounds unsure, Dom notes.
"Should I call your Mum?" He questions, climbing into his own car.
"No." Chloe's answer takes a while, and there's a hesitant pause as if she can't decide what to say.
"I won't be long. Stay where you are, I'm on my way."
Revving the engine, the pavement in front of him is flooded with light and he pulls out of the drive. He had never liked driving in the dark, but desperate times call for desperate measures. It took him a little over ten minutes to get across town and find Smith Street, which turned out to be a row of modest semis. He drove down the road slowly, checking for the blonde figure he knew he would recognise. Finally, he sees her leaning against a lamppost at the end of the street, shivering.
"Chloe?" She stumbled towards the car. Her shirt was ripped down the front, and she had her thin jacket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She was clutching it like she was about to scream, and Dom could see that she already had tears streaming down her face. The left side of her face had a sort of mottled colouring to it, as if it was starting to bruise, and there were visible hickeys on her neck..
"Chloe, what happened? Christ, it's cold. Get in the car, I've got you." Dom climbs out of the car, offering her a supportive arm. He quickly removes his long brown coat and wraps it around his sister's shivering figure. Her eyes are glazed over with tears and she doesn't move. Slowly, she looks upwards to meet his eyes, and takes a few steps forward until she leans her head against his chest and lets the tears fall. Within seconds, she's a shaking, heaving wreck, and Dom has his arms wrapped tightly around her, rubbing circles on her back and whispering comfortingly in her ear.
"Do you want to go home, or come back to mine? Or the hospital?" Dom enquires softly, murmuring into her hair.
"Yours. Don't leave me." Chloe wheezes under her breath as Dom releases her from his hug, shivering in the sharp breeze as Chloe has his coat. Their eyes locked for a few seconds, in the floodlights still left on from Doms car.
"I've got you, alright? I promise." Dom tried to reassure her gently. He supports Chloe under the arms as she half-climbs, half-falls into the small car. He shuts the door as quietly as he can and walks quickly around to his side of the car, clambering in with experienced ease and jamming the key in the ignition.