"Why are you smiling so much today?" her friend asked.
"He called me beautiful," she answered.
"Your boyfriend?"
"No. Someone more special. My brother." 

.\.|./.

Crystal Monroe

|in which she's caught red-handed|

I don't know how I feel about Jeremy's suggestion anymore. I understand that he's angry, but this seems a little overboard. Yes, I shouldn't have brought up school again because it always upsets him. He doesn't want us to lose what we have worked so hard for. But maybe that's exactly the problem.

We have nothing.

"Just go back home, Cris," Jeremy says, slamming a hand on the car's dash.

I wince and jump back, reaching automatically for the door handle. I leave the keys in the ignition, snapping off my belt and getting out of the car. Jeremy gets down from the passenger side too, stalking over to me. I take an instinctive step back.

"I can drive by myself," he snaps. "You need not tell me everything you're doing for me. I know what a perfect fucking angel you are."

My heart is faster than Jeremy's words tumbling out of his mouth. We've had this conversation way too many times, not once coming to a conclusion. Each time I bring up going back to college, Jeremy loses his temper. He's tired of me always 'demanding' the same thing, he says. It's not really a demand, though, more like a humble request. All I want is to finish high school.

I lower my gaze and bite my tongue as he shifts on his feet before me, hands clenched into fists. He's mad and I know I'm to blame. I should have kept my mouth shut and not said anything at all. When he said he was going to ask a friend for money for rent, I should have just nodded and let it go. Instead, I made the stupid mistake to suggest that I can get a job to support us.

"Why do you always do this?" Jeremy cries out, throwing his hands into the air. "Why do you keep reminding me you gave up school for me? It's not like I forced you to do it, Cris. You did it of your own free will."

I don't argue, biting back the retort that although he didn't force me to quit school, he told me he'd leave me if I did. Yes, I made the choice. But was it really a choice at all?

"Just go home," he says, stomping a foot. "Or can you not even do that?"

I keep my lips sealed.

"Can you?" he demands.

"Yes," I agree quickly.

Obediently.

With that, he leans in and places his cold lips to mine. His touch makes me shudder, a chill running down my spine when his slow poison intoxicates me and wipes my mind clean.

"Love you, babe," he breathes against my lips.

"Love you too," I answer readily, not even pondering over the words anymore.

Satisfied by my answer and manner, Jeremy straightens up and smiles. It's still a beautiful smile, but it doesn't make my heart beat like it used to. With hair as white as the snow beneath our shoes and piercing blue eyes, pink lips that spew words so hurtful, Jeremy is still the most beautiful person around. He smiles and the world melts at his feet. It's his heart that remains frozen solid.

He gets in the car and slams the door shut. As he drives away, I exhale a shuddering puff of air, allowing my shoulders to slump in relief. Closing my eyes, I bow my head and take a few calming breaths.

"You're okay, Crystal," I tell myself. "You'll be okay."

That's what my brother always told me, and even now that I've lost him, I believe every word he ever said.

I stand on the roadside as minutes tick by. I should head home like Jeremy said, but a part of me doesn't want to obey. I'm tired of the same old routine. I say something; he loses his temper; I apologize and make it up to him. Now he's gone with my car simply because I want to help him.

If only he'd let me finish school so I can get a job and help support him. We could get a bigger house, another car, better clothes. I want us to be able to afford things he's always talking about buying. He has big dreams and high hopes. The size of his wallet doesn't allow a luxury lifestyle. If only he would let me out sometimes so I could make both our dreams come true. 

If only I could stay out forever.

He loves me, I know. He only cares about me and is worried I'll leave him. I'm not going to leave him, not when I left everything for him. After leaving my family, my parents, my home, my friends ... what more can I do to convince him I'm only his. That's what he wants. That's what he's always wanted.

For me to be his.

Sighing, I start walking. I walk without a destination in mind for a few minutes, arriving at Creekside café an hour and few minutes later. A part of me warns me Jeremy won't like it if he finds me here. He asked me to go home, I should go home. Another part of just wants to breathe in open air for a few minutes.

The place looks just as it always does, with its wooden floorboards and wall-panels, round tables strewn randomly across the place cluttered with menus and pamphlets. I make a beeline for the regular table my brother and I sometimes occupied when we used to come here as kids. Dave would help us sneak out, stealing money out of dad's back pockets so that he could buy me treats. I'd loved it so much, not knowing how wrong I was and not even caring. It was a sign of what my brother was willing to do for me and I couldn't have been happier.

It isn't until I've sat down in my regular chair that I look up at last, waiting for the server to make his or her way over to me. I don't need to look at the menu, knowing it all by heart. In the blink of an eye, I can list not only my own preferences but also Jeremy's.

"You ready to order?"

The voice that speaks just above me is vaguely familiar, belonging unfortunately to the rude manager Mike that I have become used to. He's always around, watching with his beady black eyes from behind the counter, observing every move his customers make. The only reason Creekside isn't as famous as it shouldbe — because the food here is amazing — is Mike.

"Yeah, can I get a—"

Before I can say another word, another voice interrupts me. A voice I know too well.

"Crystal ... I said go home."

The voice that speaks doesn't belong to Mike, which is only one reason for the chill that crawls down my spine.

He's here. He's caught me.

My heart is still, my body frozen. I'm not doing anything wrong, so I have no reason to worry. And yet I have every reason. Jeremy asked me to go home. I didn't go home. I disobeyed him. I didn't listen to him. What will I say when he asks me why? I have no reason, and that's the thing. That's what upsets him — my instinct to disagree. My rebellious nature. My tendency to do the exact opposite of what he wants.

Jeremy's face appears over Mike's shoulder who glances back at him before taking a step to the side. I don't see his expression, my gaze fixed unblinkingly on Jeremy's familiar expression. I can see the color rises slowly up his neck, the clenching of his jaw as he grits his perfect white teeth together. I notice the stiffness in his shoulder, his hands curling into fists that would have slammed right into me if we weren't surrounded by dozens of people.

"Hey, can I --" Mike begins again, not the least bit concerned by Jeremy's expression or the fact that I have frozen solid in my seat. He's seen us here before. He knows we're together.

Nobody will help me.

"Give us a moment," Jeremy answers, his voice as soft as silk.

It slides into my ears and my brain, slowly switching off every intention of running. But where will I run to even if I tried? I have no place to go. All my paths lead to the same destination: him.

"I need to talk to my girlfriend," he adds.

Mike nods quickly, burying his notepad in the pocket of his apron and walking off towards the counter. As for Jeremy, he takes a seat in front of me. I instinctively shift back an inch, unable to comprehend what's coming next.

I want to go home. We shouldn't do this here, we can do this when we're alone. I don't want Jeremy to show his true colors where everyone else can see him. I've seen his bad side too often to know how ugly it can be. If anything gets out of hand, the last thing I want is for someone to take pictures or capture a video.

Or maybe ... I do.

Maybe I want someone else to see how he acts and tell me this is abuse. Maybe I want someone to come and tell me I should leave him because he's toxic. But would I really believe them? I know Jeremy like they don't. I know the gentle boy he is when he hugs me to his chest as we fall asleep. I know the sweet guy who buys me chocolates after he lashes out and hurts me with his words. I know the Jeremy who can be nice.

Even if he seems to be disappearing. 

He scoffs, sitting in front of me, a sneer already set on his face. His face is white, knuckles ready to collide with walls and furniture if I don't readily apologize. While I want us to go home, he clearly has other plans.

"We can talk when we get home," I whisper, my last frail attempt to keep the cool.

Jeremy's upper lip curls backward and he bares his teeth. "Why? You obviously like this place better. I don't want your lying ass in my house."

I don't answer, the word 'my house' lingering between us.

"I told you to go home but you chose to come here," he adds, his tone threatening.

Swallowing, I pull back a few inches and stare into Jeremy's face. If this is what he wants, this is what he gets. He always gets what he wants.

"So, babe ..." Jeremy begins, his eyes boring into mine and staring right into my soul. "... let's talk."

.\.|./.

A/N: Hey, and sorry for the rewrite. Really hope you'll like this version better. This made more sense as chapter one so you know what to expect from the forefront. Hope you like the story now, because I certainly do. <3

Next update: 18th January 2020.