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𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 | 𝐀.𝐀

𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✷ she hopes im cursed forever to sleep on a twin sized mattress never graduating up in size to add another 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,1k ✷ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: religion, homophobia n’ nsfw content

abby feels owen’s hand on her waist like a brick to her chest weighting her body down, it wouldn’t take much for the drowning to begin but your face across the room was both oxygen and the final anchor of her demise. she weighed her options as their personifications stood before her, father smiling brightly at the happy couple unaware his own daughter forced her chirpiness while she yearned in the deepest aching to be swept off her feet by the girl just a few away– who now refused to face her much understandably. you cursed her for inviting you to their preppy engagement party, cursed her for multiple reasons more, yet your heels stuck to the ground like they clung for dear life anticipating a plot twist shaped by regret.

“excuse me” she finally croaked out mid conversation, the place where her fiancé’s hand once held onto now burning her skin like a rotting poison. she wished to bathe herself clean in the rain like a baptism, wished owen didn’t felt like sin tainting her body from being with you, her holiest of experiences, wished she had not known heaven between your legs so she may live on her life guiltless and not as someone who has felt blasphemously like a god herself. your fingers brush past eachother as she walks up behind you and fireworks bloom from your fingertips like lily flowers at spring. lillies, her favorite, your perfume.

you follow her to the bathroom, breath unsteady, and regardless of how long the affair has been happening no familiarity prepares you for the crash of her lips against yours as you twist the doorknob. sometimes you think these moments might make you understand her, to have abby anderson’s tongue exploring your mouth, hands by your neck to keep you still, perpetual apple cinnamon smell, was nothing short of a religious experience. perhaps that is what the church brought out in her, this same inextinguishable fire at the pit of your stomach with understanding of icarus and his hope for the sun. if all sins felt this sweet it did not seem so big of a sacrifice to die for them– you’d die for her if asked.

“abs, stop” you whisper once her lips are on your neck, long wet kisses all across the exposed skin warming up your body from the winter cold better than any cloth could have, she’s hungry, biting you down and her fruity scent doesn’t let the irony of forbidden fruit to die on you even as she hums in fake confusion allowing herself more time in her feast begging it to cloud your judgement as it almost does “abigail, we have to stop”

“don’t do this to me” she begs, voice cracking “please don’t leave me, you’ll take all the sunshine with you and it’s cold, it’s a cold winter i need your arms, your limbs, your body, my sunny girl-“

“you’re getting married, abs” you sigh with the exclamation, it seems nearly as though you’ve just reminded her of it like someone who forgot to turn off the oven before they had left the house, someone destined for burnt flames, your reality scares her into kneeling submission and you’re laughing because it looks like a proposal and it’s absurd, her hands gripping yours, her gaze doe-eyed and unconditional. you are missing a ring but you see hers, diamond, and the ache doesn’t easen.

“you are everything that i want…”

“then leave him, abby. don’t sit on the dirty bathroom floor of a venue for your engagement party and promise me a love you are too scared to give me, i can’t keep excusing your cowardice for the sake of sanity. take off that ring and walk out of here with me, we’ll figure it out, we’ll be happy together, your winter won’t be cold”

she pretends to take in your words, analyse them as if her nights haven’t been filled with scenarions and possibilities all of which there is pain unbearable. you’re searching her eyes with a hope unbeknownst to men and suddenly you feel the line between dream and desperation blurring itself into oblivion. abby lets go of your touch and slides the ring from her finger out onto it’s demise on the tiled floor. you think you won. you think god exists when she locks the door behind you and presses you against the wall, believe he had heard your prayers once her fingers dip between your thighs. when she’s thrusting inside you, you cry out for god instead of her name, moan louder at the sight of her wedding band far away on the ground, feel your walls clenching around her digits and her warm breath against your neck, she’s mumbling so many i love yous you barely notice how multiple sound like im sorrys.

with your hands curling around her loose hair she gets sloppy, deprived, wants you to tug on her and beg for her mouth without needing the plead to taste you and you do so eager it burns her scalp. she’s back on her knees and she thinks for a moment not admited this might be her holy repent. tugging on your jeans till their ultimate glide towards the floor, shes sucking on the wet patch of your underwear as a tease, letting her senses flood of lillies and pussy. she finally pushes it aside and dives in, godhood in the shape of your swollen clit grazing her teeth, you tilt your waist to give her further access and there are stars and angels behind your fluttered eyelids.

she calls your her sunny girl as you rain down her face in white honey, her muscles spread your legs further apart and suck it in till it has destroyed her makeup, part of her wishes to leave this bathroom and still smell of you, part of her is scared owen might kiss your heavens from her tongue and catch it all. she’s putting her ring back on at your climax, and you’re confused and heavy breathing. a sob clings to your throat.

abby tells you all she’s ever known is the cold. tells you girls like her are unworthy of the sun. tells you owen is waiting and maybe you should leave. she doesn’t tell you she thinks god isn’t real once you’ve turned your back because he would never have created something to purely magnetic to have it ripped from her hands, she does not tell you the only thing worth worshipping is the gap between your teeth, the crook of your neck and the dimple in your cheek, doesn’t tell you she thinks hell is this. but she almost does. she almost does. on your way out, you just sob and hope she’s cursed. hope god is angry. think god is her.

© dykells twentytwentythree

“The boat scene was so random”

Actually no it was not. Abby and Owen had known each other for years, both dating for a small while when they were young but breaking up as Abby wanted rather needed revenge for her father.

Years passed with both not wanting to reach the topic of their past, they have so many built up feelings that it has to be let out,

Owen clings to the past of him and Abby’s relationship and while Abby moved on from him she clings to the fact that Joel was alive.

We can see in the aquarium how owen was painting the view from Salt Lake City where we saw them help the zebra. This is another show of how he’s clinging onto what him and Abby had.

Abby on the other hand we can see that she’s happy for owen and Mel, yes she’s anxious that now her pregnant friend is with them on a dangerous mission in the beginning of the game and while you could argue that Abby was jealous I would says she was jealous that Owen was able to move on, have a family, be happy

Abby feels like she doesn’t deserve to be happy if Joel is alive. That’s why her passion for revenge is so strong.

When they confronted eachother in the boat scene the only way that they could get their thoughts across was through actions not words. Abby immediately regretted it, you can tell by the look on her face. You can see by how cowardly she was when Mel confronted her that she truly never wanted it to escalate that badly

But Owen. Owen again clinged to that, he thought him and Abby had another chance together seen in the line

“I don’t think she knows about last night”

“I don’t care about last night”

“I do”

“Which key opens the door”

Abby hated herself for what happened but this scene is imporant to her character because now everything that has been plaguing her for years with her and Owen. It’s gone, it’s done everything Abby wanted to say but couldn’t is now “said” she could finally let go of her past.

Joel was dead, her past with Owen is now dead, the only thing left for Abby was to find herself again.

When she killed Joel - you could see Abby had a lighter sense of self compared to the flash back of 4months before the begining of the game

After the boat scene - in Santa Barbara Abby walks with a smile, she’s happy she has no former weight on her shoulders

The boat scene is important to Abby’s growth as a character. So no her have sex with Owen was not random. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk

tolerate it

pairing: older/modern abby anderson x reader

warnings: angsty angsty shit, cursing, abby kinda sucks

a/n: she has risen🙏🙏 on god i wrote this in like 2ish days because i’ve been obsessed with taylor swifts tolerate it so that’s what this is based off of <3 if it’s bad don’t tell me okay bye enjoy

wc: 4.6k :p

The unopened wine bottle placed in front of you seems to be taunting you at your loneliness, and the fancy glasses you pulled out from the highest shelf collect dust the longer they sit, empty as the day you got them. The dinner you prepared on the plate across from you sits untouched, the steam completely dissipated. You’re met with silence as you finish the last bite of your food, a part of you still hoping to hear the sound of the study door opening. A moment passes as you consider leaving the food out at the table for her but you decide to take it to her yourself. With a careful push on the table, you stand up with your plate in hand and begin putting the dishes you used while cooking into the sink.

The moon glows in the sky during the time you spend cleaning up, the window over the sink giving you the perfect view to see how late it's gotten. A quick glance at the clock above your stove tells you it's half past nine now. You grab the towel off of the hook next to the sink and use it to wipe your hands after loading the dishwasher. Lastly, you put the leftovers from dinner into the fridge and put the wine up in the cabinet along with the empty glasses. Carefully, you grab the full plate of food and make your way over to the intimidating door across from the kitchen. The sound of you knocking fills the otherwise mute home and after you wait a good moment, you think she might be ignoring you.

Just as you go to walk away, you hear a, “Come in,” from the other side of the door. The knob turns as you twist your hand around it, trying to balance the plate of food in your other hand. There Abby sits, hunched over her large dark oak desk, reading what seems to be a thick packet of paperwork she has to go over for a client. Her hair is pulled back into her signature braid, a few loose strands have fallen, outlining her frowning face. She has yet to change out of her work clothes, though she's lost the tie you recognize from gifting it to her on Christmas the year before, seeing it tossed carelessly on the ground next to her desk. You watch as her eyes scan the documents with her head down in concentration, leaving no room for any distractions, including you as you notice she has yet to acknowledge you. After watching her work in silence for a few minutes, you clear your throat in hopes she will finally take note that you are standing there. At the sudden disruption, your favorite pair of eyes flicker up to where you stay standing with a warm smile, holding out the dinner you prepared for her. 

Without a second beat, her eyes fell back down on the papers in front of her, muttering out, “M’not hungry.”  The smile adorning your face falls. A quiet sigh escapes your lips, and you walk to the left of her desk, placing the plate next to the documents that seem to captivate all of her attention. Her eyes stay locked onto the papers, even as you stand near. You see the tie out of your peripheral and you go to grab it, hearing the sound of keyboard keys clicking from beside you. When you look back at her, she's now busy typing away on the laptop she takes from home to work. The silence is deafening, other than the constant clicks of the keyboard.

Trying to fill the quiet void, you ask, “Are we still going to Nora’s tomorrow for dinner?” You receive no response other than the constant typing that you begin to grow tired of. A minute passes of your heavy stare analyzing the way she manages to effortlessly ignore your presence. 

You try again, “Abs?” No answer, once again. The familiar burning in your eyes that you've grown accustomed to these past few weeks start up again but you fight to hold back the tears of frustration from her dismissive behavior. 

“Abby…” you nearly beg once more for her to at least look up at you. 

Suddenly, the constant clattering of her fingertips on the keyboard stops, being replaced by the sound of her sighing dramatically. Her right hand comes up to wipe her face in annoyance before she turns to where you stand at her left. 

“What, y/n? I’m busy.” she says, tiredly looking across your cowering form. Her eyes drop down to where you play with her tie in your hands before she meets your stare. 

“I asked if we are still going to Nora’s for dinner tomorrow,” you quietly say, not wanting to worsen her already bad mood. Her eyes go back to her computer, starting up that annoying typing again. “I’ll take us when I get home from work.” You nod, though you know she isn’t paying attention.

Turning to leave, you pause, “Are you coming to bed soon?” She nods before stopping her typing once again to look up at you, “Don’t wait up.” You sigh, nodding again with a forced smile, leaving her to her work. You carry yourself upstairs to your shared bedroom, changing into your sleep clothes. You glance at the dresser she keeps her night clothes in, deciding to lay a pair out for her. The pajamas lay on her side of the bed as you get under the thick duvet you bought with Abby when you first moved in. Even the blanket can’t hide the coldness you feel without having her next to you. The familiar burn returns, not being able to hold back anymore. You silently cry, missing your Abby who used to never let you go to sleep alone. The same Abby who would never miss one of your homemade dinners. Most importantly, your Abby who would never take you for granted. The tears flow until you feel yourself slowly drifting to sleep, the bed still half-full. 

— — — — — 

When you wake up the next morning, you feel as cold as the night before. Wiping the sleep and dried tears from your eyes, you turn to where Abby slept, only to find her side empty. The pair of sleep clothes sits untouched in the spot you left them. You immediately go to her study once you get out of bed, finding her in the same hunched over spot you last saw her in. 

Unlike how you left her, she’s fallen asleep with her head in the palm of her hand, the stack of paperwork as her cushion. You watch as she breathes in and out, though a bit struggled with the way she is bent over her desk. Her hair is as messy as ever, blonde wisps strung across her freckled face. Somehow she manages to make sleeping on a desk the most peaceful sight.

Quietly, you tiptoe your way to her side, just like the night before. You carefully reach over, placing your hand on her shoulder to lightly shake her awake. “Abs… wake up hun,” you whisper out to her, your other hand coming up to comb back the hair from her face. She groans at the intrusion on her sleep before she slowly opens her blue orbs. For a moment, she seems as at peace as she was before you woke her, however it’s gone in a flash and she’s shaking your hands off of her. 

“Fuck, I gotta get ready,” she says, voice still deep from her sleep. You watch her quickly but neatly stuff her paperwork into her work bag and then dart out of the room. Walking after her, you hear the sound of heavy footsteps running upstairs, which you assume means she is going to get ready for work. You decide to make her a quick coffee to help her wake up from what you presume was a long night. The sound of the clock ticking fills the silent kitchen as you wait for the coffee to finish brewing. 

Just as it gets finished, you hear those same heavy footsteps rushing down the stairs.

“Abs, wait up!” you say and quickly grab the cup of coffee to give it to her before she leaves. By the time you step out of the kitchen, the front door slams shut with an echo throughout the house. You stand there, facing the front door with a coffee in hand and no one to give it to. 

The walk back to the kitchen is just as gut wrenching as the sound of the front door slamming. Not having the energy to deal with what’s left of your sweet gesture, you leave the full cup of coffee on the counter and go back to divulge in your sorrow in the comfort of your bed. 

— — — — — 

Across the room from you Abby sits at Nora’s living room couch, surrounded by her friends and coworkers. Manny, Owen, and Mel sit on the long couch while Abby and Jessica sit on the smaller couch. She’s laughing at something Jessica tells her. Her eyes are lit up in a way you haven’t seen in weeks. 

You stay standing at the entrance to the kitchen with Nora, your favorite of Abby’s friends. When Abby first brought you around her people, Nora was the most friendly and accepting of you. It always intimidated you, coming to these parties with people who are so much older than you, but Nora always made the time pass a lot better. 

“How have you been?” Nora asks suddenly, eyeing the way your gaze hasn't left Abby and Jessica the whole time you've been there. You part ways with the two on the couch and turn your attention to your kind friend.

“I’ve been good!” you say, mustering up a smile to sell your awful attempt at lying. 

Nora sees right through it. You can tell because she casts a quick glance at Abby and then to you with a look that says ‘seriously?’ Her knowing look has you dropping the eye contact, instead choosing to focus on the way your drink swirls around in the solo cup Nora made for you earlier that night. You can’t accumulate the right words to say, choosing to sigh out instead. All of the sudden, Nora’s pulling you into the kitchen, where no one can hear the two of you. 

“You wanna tell me what’s really been going on? I can tell something is off between you two,” she states with her hand coming up to rest on your shoulder in an attempt to console you. With a shake of your head, you try to laugh it off.

“Nothing is going on, Nora! Abby has been the best and I’m so grateful for everything she has done for me. Sure, she's been busy with work recently but that doesn’t mean we aren’t okay!” you respond, though you’re sure she can see past your semi-lie just as she did before. I mean, it is somewhat true. Abby HAS been extremely busy with work, but you two definitely aren’t okay.

 “Okay…” Nora pauses in thought for a moment, analyzing the smile you’re forcing and what you’ve told her. “Well I’m always here if you ever want to talk about anything, alright?” You nod your head in response, giving her a genuine smile this time. In the living room, you hear a loud commotion of yells and congratulations being thrown around. Nora nods her head in the direction of the sound, signaling you follow her into the living room. When you emerge from the kitchen, you see people surrounding Abby, giving her their congratulations and highfives. But your eyes latch onto the way Jessica is now leaned into Abby’s side, hugging her a little too intimately in your opinion. 

“What’s going on guys?” Nora asks, venturing into the swarm of people. The sound of her voice draws everyone’s attention to her, though, you stay back, watching the scene unfold. 

Manny is the first one to say, “Abby got a big promotion!” Nora is quick to congratulate her like everyone else, and the room erupts into bustling conversation. 

You continued to hang back, a little hurt that Abby didn’t tell you about the promotion, but you cut it up to that she just wanted to wait to tell everyone together. 

That is, until you hear Jessica’s agonizing voice say aloud, “She was so happy when the boss let her know, she came straight to me and told me!” 

The chatter didn’t stop but it felt like your heart did. Your head felt cloudy as you watched Abby smile so big at the people around her, not even noticing you standing there, shocked as ever. Nora turns toward you with her eyes conveying all of the words she can’t say. Without a second thought, you dart toward the bathroom down the hallway.

The door locks behind you, leaving you to try to catch your breath from the ache that resonates in your chest. You haven't realized you've started crying until you see the tears dropping into the sink you’re hunched over. Shaky hands reach up in an attempt at wiping the wetness from under your eyes but it's no use, the tears never ending. You meet your reflection in the mirror, the girl staring back at you not someone you can even recognize anymore. She is a girl who has been reduced to watching the person she loves from the sidelines. The girl who used to be the first person her lover would call with good news, cast to the side. The question is, how much more of this heartache can she bare before she fully breaks?

— — — — — 

The car ride home is silent, no words spoken between the two of you, only the sound of the engine fills the void. You’re turned towards the window, staring out into the stars that glow in the sky. You notice from the corner of your eye that she keeps glancing at you, but she's yet to say a word. By now, the tears from before have dried up, leaving your puffy eyes and smudged mascara in its wake. As the streets pass by, you try to calculate how much longer until you’re home, so you can bundle up in your bed and sleep the night away.

The sound of Abby clearing her throat knocks you out of your thoughts, casting your gaze in her direction. One hand is on the wheel and the other rests on the middle console between you two, she continues to glance back and forth between you and the road, asking, “Did you have fun?”

Your eyes cut back to the window while responding with a “Mhm.” You hear Abby sigh out, now turning into your neighborhood. The sound of your foot tapping fills the car, anticipating getting out of this confined space with her. 

As she pulls into the driveway she says, “Well, are you going to congratulate me on my promotion?” You scoff in return, whipping back to where she sits as she puts the car in park. 

“I’m sure Jessica has done enough congratulating for the both of us,” you reply, getting out of the car with a slam of the door. Not long after, you hear the driver's door slam as well and heavy footsteps walking up to follow you up on the porch. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, with a defensive tone in her words. You shake your head, unlocking the front door, your back still facing her. Once the door is unlocked, you rush inside to remove your shoes at the entryway. 

As you lean down to untie your shoes, a hand is placed on your shoulder, pulling you around to face her. Abby stands with her arms crossed in front of her chest, eyebrow furrowed in accusation, “What are you trying to say?” Yet again, you shake your head in disbelief. 

“You tell me, Abby. I mean, Jessica was the first to know about the big news and you didn’t even bother to tell me before we went to the party,” you gasp out at her ignorance. It’s her turn to shake her head as she reaches up to rub her temple as if what you’re saying is making her head hurt.

“Jessica is one of my closest friends and coworkers, y/n. Of course I told her first,” she sighs out, meeting your intense gaze once again. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull at her words.

“Over your girlfriend of three years?” She looks down at your reply. You scoff once again, “Well I can certainly see what’s been keeping you at work for so long these past few weeks.” 

Something snaps in her at that moment. Her head whips up, the signature braid following suit. You watch at the way her eyebrows furrow even further and her lips come up in a snarl in accordance to the accusation. She walks closer to you, now standing about a foot away so you have to look up to meet the anger she holds in her eyes. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she grits out, losing all composure she previously had. “I work my ass off for you all fucking day and you have the audacity to accuse me of cheating on you? Have you lost your fucking mind?” 

You shrink under her angry gaze, dropping your head to stare at your feet. Your shoe half-untied, and her boot clad feet contrast each other greatly. Suddenly, your trance is disrupted by the snap of her fingers. 

“No,” she mutters, “Fucking look at me.” 

Slowly, you lift your head up to meet her glare, hands beginning to shake. The weight in your chest returns and the cloudiness you felt earlier in your head reappears. You feel the quicken of your heartbeat in your chest at the way she looks at you, no love in sight.

“God forbid I have one night of relaxation with my friends and here you are bitching to me about it,” she says, her hostile tone bringing tears to your eyes. You can’t hide them from her anymore, almost sobbing out. She shakes her head at you with the same glare. 

“Now you’re crying like I’m the bad guy. Jesus fucking christ, y/n,” her voice raises, “You fucking suffocate me, you know that?” The sound of your sobs increases causing her to turn away from you. Her hands run up and down her head, trying to distract herself from the sound of you crying. Your knees feel weak as your hurt grows stronger, falling to the ground. You reach your arms around your knees to pull yourself in a ball, feeling your heart ache worsen and worsen. You watch as Abby paces the room, not saying a word. 

“Abs, I’m sorr-,” you go to apologize but she cuts you off with a raise of her hand in your direction. She shakes her head once again, not meeting your gaze. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” she says, staring at the ground. Her braid hangs next to her face and you look on to see her wiping her own tears away. She straightens up after a moment and turns to the door. Grabbing her jacket, she says, “I’m gonna go. We’ll talk tomorrow.” And with that, she’s gone, leaving you to wallow away in your pain alone. 

— — — — — 

The sun peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow across your skin. Your chest still aches from the night before and your head feels like it’s pounding. Abby's side of the bed is left untouched once again, no trace of the blonde coming home last night. The sight makes your heart grow heavier but you gather yourself to the bathroom to freshen up from your slumber. 

When you exit the bathroom, you can hear a quiet murmur from outside of the bedroom. You quietly trek to the door and lean into it, delicately pressing your ear to it so that you can hear the conversation. It’s Abby, she's on the phone with someone, you notice. 

“I know the luncheon is a big deal, Jess.” you hear her mumble. “I just have to deal with y/n before I leave.” With that, you dart away from the door as your breath grows heavier. A hand reaches up in an attempt to calm the pounding in your chest, though it does little to help. You’re not surprised that once again she’s choosing a work luncheon, or Jessica for that matter, over you. But you won’t sit around waiting for her to choose you anymore.

Once you’ve made up your mind, you rush to the closet you share with Abby, grabbing your suitcase and bringing it to the bed. You scramble around the room, gathering clothes and other important things, stuffing them without care into the suitcase. Remembering your tooth brush and other bathroom items, you hurry to the bathroom to grab those as well, wanting to be packed up by the time Abby comes to check on you. 

You finish frantically packing your travel bag and emerge from the bathroom to see Abby opening your bedroom door. She notices you standing there and lets out a small smile, analyzing your expression to try to see how you’re doing. 

“Hey sweetheart, you’re awak-” she cuts herself off as she watches you walk with your travel bag to the suitcase that lays open and packed on your shared bed. “W-what are you doing?” Her voice stutters, realizing exactly what you are doing but not wanting to say it.

“I’m leaving,” you state with no room left to argue. You can’t face her like this, knowing that if you did, she would have you falling down to your knees, begging for another chance. 

She laughs out almost like she thinks you’re playing a funny prank on her, but when she sees the stone cold expression painted across your delicate features, she knows it’s not a joke. You hear her slowly make her way to where you’re packing at the side of the bed, her breathing so loud that you can hear it from where you stand. 

“Baby, just let me-,” she goes to say, however you cut her off before she can finish with a raise of your hand, the same way she did to you last night.

“I don’t want to hear it, Abby.” you say, whipping your head to face her. “I’m sure you have more important things to take care of, like that luncheon ‘Jess’ was talking about.” Your words come out harsh but it‘s nothing compared to the way she spoke to you the night before. The look in her eyes shows regret and her own pain that your actions are causing her but you can’t bring yourself  to care as you turn back toward your suitcase to finish zipping it up. You lift the suitcase by the handle and drop it to the floor and begin to walk around her, suitcase in your trail. With each step you take, you hear her exhale shakier than the time before and once you reach the bedroom door, you hear her speak up.

“Can we please just talk about this, baby?” she whispers out to you, your hand pausing on the door. You turn back toward her to find her looking at you with a crestfallen expression, tears now dripping from the corners of her eyes. Her cheeks are stained red, in the way they usually are when she’s anxious from work, but now it’s because of you. You feel yourself begin to nod and you watch as her back straightens for a moment. 

“You know what? Yeah, let’s talk,” you say, turning back toward the door to drag your suitcase down to the living room. The sound of her familiar footsteps follow you, you sitting on the couch and her on the chair next to it. You find yourself in deep thought on what you want to say to her, wanting to show her what she’s put you through.. She sits, watching you quietly, anxiously waiting for you to speak first. Her hands run up and down her muscular thighs in an attempt to calm herself down. When you finally gather your thoughts, you pan back to her. Her eyes immediately lock on to yours, and there is a hopefulness in the way she stares back at you.

“You used to be the person who I could go to with all of my problems and you would find a way to make me feel better about them,” you start, watching as her head drops down to stare at the palms of her hands. “Baby-” she tries but you stop her, “Let me finish.” She looks back up at you, small tears forming in her eyes, but she nods nonetheless. 

“All of my pain from the past went away whenever you were near, but now it’s like I’m begging to just be in a small portion of your life.” you say, feeling the burning from your eyes start up. “I mean, you don’t even talk to me anymore, Abby.”

She shakes her head at the weight of your words. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I’ve been so busy with work and I guess I assumed you were fine.” At her words, she wraps her arms around her body, trying to console herself. You let out a small cry at that, reaching up to wipe your face. 

“Where did you think I was, Abby? When you were out there getting your big promotions and new clients, I was here, waiting for you to come home,” you remind her, tears blurring your vision. She’s now moved to holding her head in her hands, crying harder than before. “I’ve made you my everything, I cook your favorite meals and I clean up after you, but you make me feel like I’m taking up too much space. And when I do try to talk to you, you act as if I’m wasting your time.”

Once again, she's frantically shaking her head and turning her attention back to you. “No, baby, you are never a waste of time and I love when you’re around.” You watch as she falls down on her knees in front of you, begging for you to believe her. “Please, forgive me. I didn’t mean anything I said last night.”

“You take my love for granted, Abby.” you whisper to her, trying to hold back the sobs that are waiting to be unleashed. “I can’t live like this anymore. Not when it feels like you just tolerate my love for you.” 

She cries harder as you stand up from your seat on the couch and grab your suitcase. The walk to the front door is hard, trying to block out the sobs from behind you. You pause once you’ve made it and turn back towards her, finding her standing up in the same spot, watching you leave. 

You give one last request, “I love you so much, Abby, but until you prove to me that you appreciate me and want me in your life, I won’t be back.” Despite the tears streaming down your face, your expression remains firm and you mean every word you say. You watch as she nods her head and makes her way over to you. With a gentle touch, she lifts her strong hands to cup your face, placing a warm kiss on the top of your head. She tilts your head up to face her blue orbs, glistening with tears, and she says, “I promise I won’t stop until I have you back.”

You nod up at her as she releases her hold on your head, and you turn back to open the door. The crisp breeze hits you as soon as you step outside with your baggage and you turn back one last time.

“Goodbye, Abby.” you say, looking at the tears continuously pouring down her freckled cheeks. Her lips pick up in a small, sad smile as she says, “I’ll see you soon, y/n.” 

— — — — —

a/n: i hope you enjoyed even tho it’s sad lmao but i’m thinking about writing a part two where abby tries to get her back (or maybe something else :0) lmk if y’all liked it 🤞

Today 40,000 meals were dropped over Gaza Strip courtesy of the us army. You may be smiling and saying finally something but no these would have fed less than 5% of the population. And I say would have because most of these meals were expired. We dropped expired meals for less than 5% of the people who are being starved death. This is no longer just funding this genocide this is actively particpating. Also please do not forget the flour massacre hundreds of people were shot trying to get flour to feed their starving families and this isn’t the first time this has happened.

now i know if y'all can read smut all day like you get paid for it, you can take the time to read and inform yourself about the genocide that's going on. it literally does not hurt at all to repost and speak up about it. you don't have to have the money to donate but don't stay silent about it???? just because it's not personally affecting you doesn't mean it's not affecting others. it's kind of bothering me to see mutuals actively ignoring what's going on. i don't wanna tell people what to do with their own accounts but you have the power to bring awareness to what's going on and you choose not to.