You and Stu have been in a toxic relationship since seventh grade. currently, it’s senior year. You guys weren’t always toxic, it started in tenth grade. you guys were happy, adorable, loving and healthy in seventh, eighth, and ninth.

He doesn’t cheat on you. That’s the least the motherfucker could do.

He does hit you. Sometimes you’ll feel a pinch, sometimes you’ll get light bruises, sometimes you’ll get dark ones that stay for weeks on end.

He’ll call you names. He always makes it up in the same way. Stupid bouquets of your favorite flowers, some even being dipped with glitter, a little teddy bear, (which you now have multiple of sitting on your bed,) and neck kisses with slow, deep thrusts. That’s his way of saying sorry, and yet, you still stayed?

Currently, you two are in his room, laying on his bed and watching old re-runs of scary Halloween movies.

He’s laying beside you, sitting against the bed frame, in just white boxers and white socks. He’s playing with your hand, keeping his eyes on the tv.

He hums, looking over at his nightstand, his phone going off. He looks at it. It’s Billy.