He'd been hiding in the bedroom for a few hours now. He was grateful that Kenji had been pulled into a work call. It gave him time to relax and recover from the earlier argument. He knew it was wrong, but he ranked it mild; thought himself fortunate that it had only been some yelling and a single slap. Though, the ease of the interaction made him wonder if more was to come. If Kenji was just thinking through his anger.
--with that thought in mind, his heart raced as the door knob hastily turned. He froze in his spot, though he wondered if it would be better to shut off the TV or at least turn down the volume. His mind was always in a frenzy, trying to figure out what might set him off, or egg him on more. It was his best form of self-defense: placation. It wasn't like he had the strength of heart to do much physically. Besides, what he had done had been scoffed at. His hits or demands had never been listened to, even back in high school.
"You're real capable aren't you?" He started with a scoff. Sullivan couldn't help the sincere confusion on his face...all before the drain of color from him upon seeing his phone. "Mind tellin' me who Seong-Min is?" The new message bubble in the chat made him feel faint, lips parted but struggling to let out any desperate rebuttal.
"H-he's a friend. Just a friend--but you can see w-we haven't talked--"
"Funny that he messaged after you were 30 minutes late to home." He was cut off. Again, with whatever explanation that Kenji had created in his head. The struggle with a narcissist is that there is no convincing them from their conclusions. It made Sullivan rigid like he was preparing to bounce off the bed to run. As Kenji stepped forward, that tension only increased. "Did he miss you? Or did you miss him? Either way, you two stopped and hung out didn't ya? And you didn't tell me so you're hiding something."
"I'm not. I'm telling the truth. I-I was late because of the bus and--"
"Shut up. God. You stutter and whine all the time. Drives me fucking crazy when you do it." His collar was snatched, pulling him forward. Sullivan shrunk as far as he could, eyes immediately wandering away from Kenji's cold gaze. A soft 'I'm sorry' escaping his lips before he even thought about it.
"So how're you going to make it up to me?" It was immediately registering what he wanted as an apology. The ache of his body from last night made him worried about what might come tonight with the mood he was in. And most importantly he didn't want it. He never wanted it.
Without thinking, he pushed on Kenji's shoulder. A quiet denial of the request. And he realized his mistake after there was a laugh. Incredulously before a crueler tone followed. "--are you serious?"
Frantically, knowing there was a repercussion coming, Sullivan reached up, pulling on the collar of his sweater to force his hand away. He thanked God that the bed wasn't up against a wall, giving him a place to crawl off and try and run from the bedroom. He didn't want any more pain. He didn't want to hurt. He didn't want any of this.
Of course, Kenji wasted no time chasing. If not for the misplaced jealousy, he might have found it funny. But he was seething. He rounded the bed, grabbing at the door before Sullivan could shut it behind him. Darting down the hall Sullivan was dashing through himself. There was a bathroom at the end. He knew the front door was locked. He just needed somewhere to hide until Kenji cooled off. He prayed that he would, he--
--he had the wind knocked out of him. Before he could process it, he was on the ground, struggling for a breath. He tasted blood, realizing that he'd bit when he hit the floor, having to swallow it painfully. A deep gasp tried to refill his lungs, but Kenji's weight on top of him made it hard. As he felt a hand on the waistband of his sweatpants, he yelled.
"Let go! Please, don't--" He kicked wildly, trying to turn himself over. As he felt one land against Kenji's groin, he was scrambling back to his feet. He stumbled through the hall, clumsier with each heavy footfall behind him. The bathroom felt like a mile away.
He prayed Kenji was slowed enough that he had time. He ran into the bathroom and closed the door. It was answered with a loud, shaking pound upon it, Sullivan struggling to use his body weight to keep it closed. Kenji's voice was beyond a shout now. He couldn't make out what he was saying though, desperately forcing the door closed enough that he could slide the lock through the peg and turn the knobs lock after.
There was a slam. Another two. A third. Sullivan pressed his back to the door to extra weight, clutching his hands together for a place to deeply breathe into to control his nerves.
The feet came away from the bathroom. Sullivan could only assume that Kenji was finding something to break the lock. Because he wasn't going to be let off the hook that easily. Especially after kicking him. There was more to come...he'd only given himself a temporary respite. And his awareness of it only made his panic all the worse. A shuddered breath broke into a sob, again having to swallow a mouthful of blood, his sweater sleeve washing his lips and chin.