Chapter Fourtyfour – You´re Worth Nothing! NOTHING!

Rumlow’s pov

He stands in the door between the hall and the living room. Watching you, as you turn your back to him, and walk out the door. Slamming it shut behind you. He takes a deep breath, before finding another bottle of whiskey, pouring himself a glass.

He sits down on the couch. Dragging his hands through his hair. Before hiding his face in his hands. Elbows on his knees. He sighs.

You don’t cry, Brock! You don’t do that shit! YOU. DON’T. CRY! But he does….

FUCK!!

He screams at himself, at the situation, at his own words. «Not worth it!» Fuck, fuck, fuck. Banging his fists on the table. Now you ruined just EVERYTHING! Fuck you, Brock!

FUCK!!

He throws the table almost across the room. Glasses, mugs, magazines it all flies everywhere. Way to fucking go, Brock. The only woman you’ve loved, since your mother. And you fucking shattered her heart. Fucking idiot!

FUCK!!

He bangs his fist at the wall. You’re a fucking idiot, Brock! Why the FUCK did you do that? What the hell were you thinking? Fists against the wall, over and over, until the wall finally gives in.

FUCK!!

The dresser by the bathroom door is the next item to be thrown over the floor. Drawers falling out, stuff scattered all over. He doesn’t care. You lost her, Brock. There’s no coming back from this. Serves you right, fucking idiot!

FUCK!!!

In the bathroom, he plants another fist in the mirror. Of course it breaks, pieces of glass stuck in his knuckles. Another hit on the glass, glass buried even deeper. Bloodstains on the mirror now. When he sees them, it’s like a dam bursts inside of him. His legs can’t even carry him anymore. He sits down on the floor, back against the bathtub. Face in his hands, and then everything comes pouring out of him. Every feeling, every fear, every sleepless night, the pain, the agony, the grief, every tear he has held in for the last 38 years.

She could have saved you, Brock! She would have saved you! She would have given you a family, kids! She would have understood! She would have helped you, Brock! She would have! And what did you do? You crushed her. You deserve to feel miserable now, you deserve this. «Not worth it». Fuck you, Brock!

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YN pov

When you shut the door to your old apartment, you sink down to the floor. Tears uncontrollably falling from your eyes. He actually said that you weren’t worth it. Worth what? His time? His feelings? His dick? Probably all of it. You’re worth nothing. NOTHING! You were probably just a hole to put it in, because he needed it. Fuck! How is it possible to be so STUPID? How could you fall for the good guy side of him? Didn’t you learn anything from the relationship with David? Like he never put up a good guy act! Screw you, YN! Stupid! From now on, EVERYTHING is a red flag. Understand, YN?

The anger you feel, helps you to get up from the floor. You walk into your living room. You haven’t been in the apartment since it was broken into, and nothing have been cleaned up. The cut open couch cushions are still there. You stand still for a while. Look around. Then you remember how protective Brock was. How he instantly went into protective mode. How he cared for you that night. Is he thinking of you right now? Arrgh.. Forget it, YN. He said that you ment nothing to him. Let it go.

You can’t stay in the living room anymore. Instead you walk into your bedroom. It’s a mess. Everything you own is scattered all over the floor. Your mattress pushed halfway off the bed. You push it back in place, and lie down. Staring at the ceiling.

«I’m not done with you yet!»

«I’ll be more than happy to teach you… If you’ll let me, that is»

«I didn’t know you needed clothes to drink coffee. Or do you have some kind of special blend, that you need clothes to drink?»

«Well, so are you, and it worked out great without clothes last night»

«Don’t forget that you’re mine now»

Get him out of your head, YN. If you’re not worth it. Then he isn’t worth it ether.

«Say the word, and I’ll kill him»

«YN, are you OK?»

«I fucking love you»

Screw this! You walk into the kitchen, open the fridge. Please have something to drink, you think to yourself. Empty.. Fucking perfect. That was just what you needed. A trip to the liquor store. You just need a shower first.

When you walk into the bathroom, you gasp. It’s in total disarray. Tiles ripped off the wall, shower cubicle crushed into pieces. Same with the mirror. The sink looks like it was smashed with a sledge hammer. Well, you can forget the shower then, you think to yourself. Trying to stay calm. It’s not working out very good for you.

You don’t realise how much you’re shaking, until you sit down in your living room. You feel nauseous and cold. Alone and forgotten. Used. Scared. Stupid, YN! That’s what you are.

You knew how your apartment looked, at least to a certain point. But you haven’t been here for so long. And being safe in Rumlows arms, you didn’t think about it that much.

«Our place»

«I’ll find him, YN! I’ll find him, and I’ll kill him»

«You’re mine, and it’s my job to protect you»

«I’ve got you! I won’t let you go!»

His voice echoes in your head. You feel his touch, his kiss, you smell his perfume. What are you doing, YN? You love him. YOU. LOVE. HIM! Why did you leave? Why didn’t you ask him what he ment? Why didn’t you talk to him?

«You left work.. I was so worried!»

«Y…YN, what are you doing?»

«Can we please talk about this? That’s all I’m asking»

This isn’t right! You can’t do this! Sit here alone. You love him. He captivated you from the very first second. His eyes. The way he moves, the words he uses. How protective he is. You can’t lose him! Not now, not like this! You have to find out what happened, and why he acts this way. You have to know if you did something wrong, and if you did, how you can make it right again.

You pick up your phone. Please pick up.. Please.. You don’t have to wait long for an answer.

– Hi… It’s me… I… I’m sorry about before.. I know it’s kinda late.. But I just don’t want to be alone right now. Can I please talk to you?

……