Spencer and Toby getting back together so shortly after Yvonne’s death is a whole bunch of levels of fucked up yet I’ve decided I don’t give a shit because after years of watching this fucking show my otp deserves to be happy and end up together even though the writers totally ruined their story ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
You hated Sid. That much you confirmed a few months ago, right after you stopped mistaking his abuse for love. But then sometimes, he’d look at you the way he used to and your heart would flutter. He’d kiss you in the same way that made you fall for him. He’d touch in the way that made you overlook all of his actions. And you’ll fall for him time and time again.
He banged on the bathroom door which made you drop your phone into the water. You quickly tossed it under your clothes on the floor, knowing you’ll have to buy a new one. When he came into the bathroom and saw you trying to cover your naked body in the warm water, he yelled, “How many times do I have to say no locked doors?”
His handsome face was contorted in a rage, his bare chest puffed in a way that made your heart pound in fear. He reached for you as you pulled back. Nothing hurt like getting hit when soaked. You manage to grab your towel as he drags you out of the bathroom. You holds you by your wrists and you writhe yourself free.
“I had to lock it, you don’t like being woken up,” you say quickly. At that he pauses. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s heard you or because you pulled away. You hold the towel tighter around you, feeling exposed more than just physically.
“I heard you talking to someone, where’s your phone?”
“Where is it?”
“I threw it away. I plan on getting a new one today,”
“Then who were you talking to?”
You look away from him, feeling your pulse racing but hoping your face isn’t giving anything away, “I was praying,”
You shouldn’t have looked away, because he shoves you against the bed and he has your wrists clamped down beside your head. He leans in close to your face, gracing you with his morning breath.
“You don’t pray,”
You look him in the eyes, “I was. I was praying for you,” At that, you finally see a glint of confusion pass over his face.
You don’t hesitate, “Because I love you,”
And just like that his eyes are red and he’s crying into your hair, “I’m sorry,” he sigh against your skin, “I woke up and didn’t know where you were,”
You nod, stiff like a board beneath him, “It’s okay,” the two words you’ve said too many times.
“I just- I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” and you feel yourself placing your arms around him, because that’s what you always do. Seeing him vulnerable moves you. You place your hand on his dark hair and he takes this as an okay to start kissing you. You don’t stop him, but you don’t participate. He’s calm now, that’s all that matter. And you’d do anything to keep him calm.
Your phone did break and you’re glad it did because that gives you an excuse to get out of the house. Sid is in a cheery mood. He even kissed you before you left when you said you might take a while, “I love you,” he had said. You left the house with a smile.
You get your phone as promised and find that you’re passing the fight club on your way home. Perhaps you were exaggerating Sid’s actions. He always apologized after. Was there reason to even come to this place? Maybe he was starting to realize his ways. People change.
You’re in the process of contemplating whether you should stay or go, when the door opens. You recognize him immediately and mentally curse yourself.
His eyes widen when he sees you, “You’re okay,” his words sound a like a relief for himself and you almost don’t know what to say.
You nod, “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“When you called, I heard-”
“You heard nothing,” you snap defensively.
B/N goes quiet and you feel yourself getting annoyed, “Will you be joining us anytime soon?”
You shake your head, “There’s no reason now. Everything’s fine. Sid’s changed,”
B/N squints his eyes at you, as if trying to see through your lies, “What makes you think so?”
You cross your arms, pushing your hair from your face which causes you to touch your cheek. You feel the pain, remembering the sore spot from where Sid had hit you, “He hasn’t changed just because he apologized to you.”
You glare at B/N, “You think just because you see a few bruises you know more about my life than I do?”
“No, I just-”
“I don’t need your help. My life is none of your business,” you take the crumpled paper that he had given you and throw it at him, “I’m fine right where I am.”
His eyes are on yours and you can’t stand to look at them. Unlike Sid, he doesn’t look angry by what you’ve just done. His eyes are so tender that your throat chokes up. You turn from him as your eyes flood.
“Sid’s changed,” you whisper to yourself as you walk home, trying to put B/N’s words away. You keep repeating that statement, forcing yourself to believe them until you step into your house.
“Babe, I’m home,” you call out to Sid.
He’s yelling on the phone. Your body goes cold and you think about leaving again, until he calms down.
“Y/N how much money did you use to buy that phone?” he snarls at you.
“Phones aren’t cheap, Sid,” your tone was too sarcastic. You shouldn’t have said anything because he smacks you so hard that you stumble against the vase. You catch it before it shatters.
“Ninety bucks for a phone? You couldn’t go cheaper?”
You’re angry now. You hold the medium size vase in your hand and before you can register your actions, you fling it at him. It shatters against his back, “Why are you even mad? It’s my money!”
He turns to you slowly and your heart drops at the look in his eyes. He smiles. He’s finally ready for a fight.