Can we have a sequel from that fic where Mc and Onyx meet while Dorran is alive? Maybe with Onyx actually going to Mc's shop and talk to her? Omg, please, I need to know what happens next, the person who wrote that fic got me off guard. (And maybe they have a little romantic moment? So things doesn't stay so dark?)
Part 1
Warning: Mentions of abuse
Written by @an-awkward-ghost
...
Your phone rings. It interrupts your lazy scrolling, hand pausing at the sudden change on the screen. You arch an eyebrow.
It had been a quiet day in the shop so far and your shift just ended. You literally laid down in your bed a few minutes ago.
“What’s up, mom?” Please don’t tell me the shop just got busy and you need my help, please don’t tell me—
“Hello sweetie, there’s someone looking for you. She looks...” she lowers her volume, worry practically coating each word. “She looks... quite anxious. I’ll send her up so you girls can chat over tea, is that okay? She looks like she needs it.”
“I wasn’t expecting anyone though...”
“Oh. She came in with our shop card, so I thought—”
“I don’t think I’ve given—”
The memory of a sweet girl with a bruise on her wrist makes you pause. Your mouth makes a perfect ‘o’.
“I didn’t think she would come...”
“So do I send her up or not?”
“Yes, please do! I’ll go brew the tea right away.”
What could have happened? Something must have, right? The stranger seemed quite intent on avoid any topic related to her bruises, and you still remembered the haunted look she had when you gave her the card. You deeply hope she’s all right.
There’s a shy knock on the door, which you almost run to answer.
Hey, no, chill, MC. Chill. I don’t want to scare her off, you think to yourself, taking a deep breath before opening the door.
There she is, hair like morning sunshine, as pretty as you remembered, but she doesn’t put a front this time. She just forces a smile and your heart breaks at the sight of her, at her defeated expression, at the way her hand trembles when she gives you an awkward wave.
“Here, come this way... I was preparing some tea, do you have any preference?”
“I... I guess... do you have chamomile?”
“Yup, sure do, just uh, just take a seat while I get everything ready.”
She watches silently as you move about. She seems to dim even more, sinking in her seat. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to... to bother you.”
“It’s fine. We all need to vent sometimes.”
“Right...”
You chance a glance at her. She looks so sad...
“You are safe. In here, no one will come after you. You are free to speak. Nothing... bad happened, did it?”
She tenses, one hand moving to her wrist, as if to hide the bruise you had seen a few weeks ago. The movement seems unconscious... she is wearing long sleeves.
“I... I am safe,” she repeats, as if trying to believe it. “I am... free to...” She falls silent.
“It’s okay. You don’t need to tell me—”
“No, I—I want to get this off my chest. It’s just...”
“Too much?”
“Too much, yeah...” She looks up to the ceiling, blinking rapidly. “I just... need someone to talk to that doesn’t...”
“I get you, you want someone impartial, but I think I should tell you that I probably won’t say what you want to hear.”
She pauses. “What would you say?”
“I mean... I don’t have the whole story, that’s obvious, but if your partner gave you those bruises, then they probably aren’t good news.”
She inhales sharply. Closes her eyes, slowly. “The bruises were from practice. I’m a performer.”
Tension falls over the room like a heavy blanket. You finish pouring the water in the cups and walk towards her, unsure if this is the best course of action, but aware that she needs to start coming to terms with it. The partner bit was a wild guess, honestly, but she looks so defeated... it doesn’t seem like an issue related to work.
You put her cup in the table in front of her, and sit next to her, leaving some space between you.
You take a deep breath.
“I know. You act well.”
She chuckles, sadly. “Clearly not well enough...”
“I’m, uh... My name is MC, by the way.”
“...My name is Onyx. And I guess... you weren’t too far off the mark.”
You keep silent, allowing her to continue without interruption. She reaches for the cup and takes a sip, as if building courage. She taps it once, twice, breathing slowly.
She opens her mouth, seems to lose her nerve, and takes another sip. The process repeats for a while.
At a loss, but eager to make her feel less anxious, you reach for her hand. It’s instinctive. She freezes under your touch and for a second you thought you’ve screwed this up, but soon enough she grasps your hand with surprising strength.
She takes another sip.
“I made... some mistakes, and he reacted... badly. I thought he only wanted the best for me and that’s why he was tough some times, but recently he... well, let’s just say he crossed a line. I didn’t know what to really think until I ran into you. I guess I hadn’t...”
“Recognized what was happening?” You offer, after she doesn’t talk for a while.
“I just— I thought he cared. ” She’s interrupted by a sob, and it seems to be what breaks the dam she’s been using to hold her emotions, because soon she leaves the tea cup and curls beside you, hands fisting your clothes as sobs wreck her entire body. You envelop her in a tight hug, hoping she feels all your warm support through it.
You don’t know her very well, but the sheer pain in her voice leaves you reeling. She did a pretty good job at covering all of it until now.
You move your hand on her back in what you hope is a soothing motion, a bit surprised to feel how toned she is, even through the fabric. Well, that makes sense. She is a circus performer, the tightrope walker, from what you remembered of the poster she had shown you.
That someone this strong had experienced abuse...
“I’m so sorry... I didn’t want t-to make you listen to all this stuff but—”
“No, no, it’s okay. Feel free to vent all you want.”
She starts to pull away. “That’s not—”
“No, listen, it’s fine. You deserve to let all of this out. If you—”
Those words seem to do the trick. She collapses against you again, pressing one hand to her mouth, seemingly overwhelmed.
“If you just bottle it up, it will become worse. Believe me. You deserve to be happy.”
She chuckles weakly. “E-even if that means... crying in the arms of a stranger?”
“Even if it means that. Whatever makes you feel better, no?”
She sobs a bit more. You awkwardly offer her some tissues that were nearby, which she gladly accepts.
“I know it’s... hard to accept it, considering he’s someone that is supposed to care about you, but... if you continue to suffer silently while he treats you like this... you will never be happy.”
“Supposed to... yeah...” She pauses, trying to regulate her breathing. “He was so gentle at first... I-I’m not sure what changed. He just became so... angry.”
“...maybe he was bottling up some things, too, and he just... exploded eventually. But Onyx, how long has he been like that?”
She’s silent for a while.
“Onyx?”
“...about three months, now.”
“That’s a long time.”
“I know... I know. I thought I knew everything about him, but now I don’t know if that was a front. We have... some things going on that are really stressing. I had seen some glimpses of how angry he could get, but I guess I thought he’d never... that he’d never do anything to me.”
“So you... acknowledge it, then?”
“I didn’t want to, at first. I thought there’s no way he could be abusive. I thought I was the one messing everything up.”
“Oh, Onyx—”
“But when we ran into each other and you looked at me with— with so much fear, I thought... maybe it’s not... maybe what’s happening it’s not normal.”
“But Onyx, I don’t think you were... well, ah, I-I’m going to take another wild guess here, but... I don’t think you were the one messing things up, as you put it, but you are afraid of it. Deadly afraid. And he took his anger out on you because you were an easy target, and that? That’s what is really messed up.”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m sure I made a lot of mistakes, but the way we both handled things are... not healthy, to say the least.”
You frown, mulling things over. “So... as time went on, you became afraid of making more mistakes and angering him even more?”
“I’m sure he got annoyed because of all the mistakes I did.”
“It is natural to get annoyed or irritated with some things, sure, I’ll concede that. But the issue here is that the guy choose the violent option and that, to you, is not fair. Like at all. You also have emotions, you know? You are allowed to get annoyed or sad too.”
She goes silent again, considering what you just said.
Ah, I think I see what the issue is here...
“You know that, right? That you deserve to feel things, too?”
“I...”
“You do. Believe me. You don’t deserve to... to pretend it’s all okay when it’s not, to just bottle up your emotions because you feel like people around you don’t need to deal with it. I had a friend like that once— I say from experience that that’s what hurts more. Not being able to help, you know? The people that care about you won’t feel annoyed with you for having emotions, they want to help. I’m sure of it. But your partner...”
She sighs. Starts to pull away again, and you let her. She carries the weight of her emotions in her eyes, this time, and she looks so empty and miserable that your heart aches.
“I want to believe he cares, but recently... I’ve started to see he doesn’t.”
The admission seems to leave her drained. You wait a bit but she doesn’t seem to have the energy to continue talking, so you reach for her hand again and squeeze.
“I... know we’ve only known each other for half and hour, maybe, but I’d really love to continue to support you. This is a safe space for you, I want you to know that.”
She nods weakly. “You’ve been very sweet. Thank you for that. Really. I didn’t want to pour my feelings out to a stranger but you... have a really nice vibe around you.”
“I’m glad to hear that. So, I’m sure you are exhausted from all that, so what do you say if we watch a movie? Something fun.”
She turns to look at you, wide-eyed. “Oh, no! I wouldn’t want to impose—”
“Hardly! C’mon, I can’t let you leave all emotionally drained.”
“But... but—”
“Nop, no buts. I’d feel awful if you just leave like this. Please?”
“I—” she blinks, startled. “A-all right...”
