#dark topper

he’d told you time and time again that rafe was bad news, but that didn’t stop him from playing in his face day in and day out. you didn’t mean to end up alone with rafe, it just happened one night when topper had to head somewhere with his mom unexpectedly. you knew rafe had some questionable characteristics and faltering morals, but you didn’t think you had any reason to worry about the man pursuing you against your will.

your boyfriend wouldn’t even make eye contact with you now, and the look he wore on his face made it more than clear that he was digusted with you, something he’d already voiced when he first reacted.

all you could do was stare down at your hands, blinking through the tears that clouded your vision.

“top,” you hoped the use of his nickname would help pull some empathy from your boyfriend. “i…i’m trying to tell you that rafe…he hurt me. i need you to believe me-,”

topper laughed, like the idea was amusing. “you think i believe that bullshit?” you flinched at the emphasis topper placed on the last word.

“i’ve seen the way you look at him when he’s around. you think i’m stupid?” he looked at you expectantly, but something told you he wasn’t looking for an answer. topper shook his head, brows furrowed as he stared you down. “i didn’t think my girlfriend was such a sneaky fucking whore.”

you sniffled a couple times, dropping your jaw to breathe through your mouth when your nose could no longer suffice. a sudden harsh grip on your chin had you gasping, eyes snapping up to topper’s hard ones as he crowded your face with his own.

“hey,” he snapped, tone condescending as ever. “can you fucking look at me, maybe? don’t just tell me you’ve been a little slut then not even bother to look me in the eyes after.”

“i’m sorry!” you played it safe with your response, offering an apology instead of trying to stick up for yourself any further. desperation laced your tone, voice cracking as you whispered the apology.

“you’re sorry.” topper repeated, face even until he finally cracked a smile, breath fanning your face as he laughed in it, nodding to himself.

“you’re sorry, yeah... yeah, you are fucking sorry. a sorry ass excuse for a girlfriend.”

you frowned up at your boyfriend, trying to squirm away from his harsh touch, but his hold on you didn’t relent.

“but that’s alright.”

it wasn’t. you knew it wasn’t, and that’s why his sudden change in demeanor had you breathing out a low, “wha-?” which was cut off by topper as his hand snaked around the side of your face, finding a home at the back of your head. he let his fingers tangle in the hair there, tugging enough to urge your head back as he towered over you.

you weren’t sure what to do when he pulled you forward by your hair, hands brushing against his chest to stop yourself from stumbling forward. as quickly as topper lured you to your feet, he shoved down, forcing you onto your knees in front of him.

there was a daunting look in his eyes as he eyed you from above, free hand moving to fumble with his belt, dropping his pants and boxers in one swift motion.

“you’re gonna make it up to me, right now.”

his length was freed, and your tearful eyes watched as it sprang to life against his lower stomach. you swallowed hard, knowing there was no way out of the punishment topper had picked out for you.

the last thing you needed after being raped by your boyfriend’s best friend was for the man you sought comfort in to force you into yet another sexual act you didn’t want any parts of, but topper only dismissed you, taking himself into his hand and pumping at his shaft, now angled towards your face. you shuddered at the sight of precum lacing his tip, which he smeared against your closed lips.

you knew resisting would do you no good, but you still couldn’t will yourself to peel your lips open, even as topper kept prodding at your mouth with his hard on. you refused to believe your boyfriend could truly be cruel enough to force himself on you, basically recreating the situation that landed you both here in the first place.

your reluctance wasn’t appreciated by your boyfriend, who tightened his grip on your hair, nails scratching at your scalp until the stinging was too much to bare.

“so you’ll spread your legs for my best friend but not for me? you’re my girlfriend,” he shook you slightly by your hair as he seethed, “you’re mine to fuck, not rafe’s. i think maybe you need a little reminder.”

this time, topper tapped his head against your cheek, “open your fucking mouth. i won’t tell you again.”

you were forced to part your lips when you could no longer hold off the pained gasp that had been brewing. topper took the opportunity to shove his cock past your lips with one harsh rut of his hips.

when he felt your teeth grazing his skin, topper yanked your head back slightly. “aht aht,” he corrected, using his free hand to move the hair out of your face and fixing you with a look of warning.

“Are you crazy?!” You didn’t bother trying to keep your voice down anymore, didn’t care to spare wandering ears from hearing an argument they had no part in. The sudden tight grip on your arm stung, and you gasped at the act of aggression from your boyfriend.

Topper had only recently redeemed himself, only recently been granted a second chance with you.

Yet here he was, blowing it not even a week later. Even with your gaze casted on Topper, you could still feel eyes on you and your boyfriend as he dragged you out of the party by your arm, like a child.

The kook prince, the undeniable instigator of Topper’s rage staggered close behind. The smug look he couldn’t fend off was poorly hidden behind a red solo cup.

Trying to pull your arm from Topper’s grasp only earned you a harsher tug on your limb.

“Topper!” You criticized, shoving at his chest. “Get off of me!”

Your boyfriend hardly stumbled back at all. “Would you calm the fuck down?” He shook your arm, in turn jolting your frame in its entirety.

“Let me go!” You insisted, trying again to tug your arm free.

“Not until you tell me the fucking truth!” Saliva sprang from his lips, onto your face as Topper seethed down at you. “What did he say to you?”

The reference to your brief interaction with a random kook from the party only served to anger you more.

You couldn’t blame the guy for complimenting you, if ‘damn girl!’ even fell into that category. The random kook was visably clearly too drunk to realize he was speaking to Topper Thornton’s girlfriend.

And the timing couldn’t have been worse. Topper was rounding the corner to your left just as the guy’s friends collected him and wisked him off around one on the right side.

You’d already explained the interaction more than once, but Topper, thanks especially to Rafe, insisted on making something out of nothing.

Topper could’ve sworn you saw him first, only shooing the boy away after you saw your boyfriend coming. Which only solidified his belief that you wanted to hide something from him.

Rafe also insisted that he saw you all over the guy. You were outnumbered by the two boys, doomed from the very beginning. Before the argument even ensued, as soon as Tooper saw you.

Your facial features formed a look of confusion as your brows furrowed together, “Topper, you’re being crazy-!”

His fingers curled in around your elbow, and you weren’t surprised that the taller boy didn’t bother to intervene when you cried out, “Top-!”

“Just-,” Your boyfriend cut himself off, inhaling and exhaling sharply, “just tell me the fucking truth. Why’d you give him your number?”

“He didn’t get my number, Topper!”

“Then what did he say to you?”

“He said I looked good!” Topper froze at that.

“He asked if I was single, I told him no-,”

The look Topper gave you was one of digust. You couldn’t tell if your boyfriend wanted to lunge at you or never speak to you again.

“S’probably that dress she’s got on,” your attention shot over to the other voice, eyes falling on Rafe as he smirked obnoxiously.

Your eyes made it back to your boyfriend in time to watch his jaw clench, and his grip loosened for a brief moment. You used the opportunity to yank your arm free, stepping back a few feet and creating a safer distance between the two of you.

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” Rafe cocked an eyebrow, nodding his head as if your question only amused him.

“Hey! Don’t you talk to him like that! Just because-because you’re mad that he caught you on your sneaky shit!”

“He’s lying!” You cried, extending an arm in the direction of the Cameron boy.

Rafe let out a low whistle as he stepped closer to the two of you, “gonna let her run her mouth like that to you, Top?”

You glared at him in disbelief.

“Somebody needs to teach her a lesson.”

Your face twisted into what you were sure was an unappealing sneer. Unable to take your eyes off of Rafe Cameron, his words didn’t sit right with you.

And neither did the way your boyfriend conformed to every little word his friend spoke. “She always does this shit. She just loves the attention.”

Now, your attention was back on Topper. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your head whipped around to Rafe, “with both of you?!”

Ward Cameron’s son only smirked, amused by the way your anger clearly brewed hotter by the second. Your boyfriend offered no answer either, so you threw your hands up in front of you. “Fine,” you started, standing up straighter, “I’m done.”

You turned to storm away from the two boys, and you couldn’t say you were surprised when a rough hand grabbed you by the arm and pulled you backwards.

Expecting to scold your boyfriend, your eyes grew wide when you turned to find Rafe standing behind you, his foreign hand wrapped around your arm.

“What the fuck?!” You screamed, wincing when the grip only tightened in response. “Topper! Get him!” You couldn’t even believe you had to tell your boyfriend to intervene as the scene unfolded.

While you struggled to pry yourself free of Rafe’s grip, the both of you stared at Topper expectantly, and you suddenly worriedly wondered who he would choose to side with now - his friend, or his girlfriend…

Topper’s face looked like he’d been presented with the hardest decision ever. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, jaw clenching as he weighed his options.

“…Rafe, let her go man.”

Rafe’s jaw dropped only slightly out of the corner of your eye, and as soon as you felt his hold loosen in the slightest, you yanked your arm back towards you, stumbling forward towards your boyfriend.

When he so absentmindedly extended his arms out to reel you in, your brows furrowed together. Instead of retreating into his arms, you drove yours past them, palms shoving right into his chest as hard as you could.

“Fucking asshole!” You shouted, hands now curled into fists that pounded relentlessly on Topper’s hard chest. He hardly stumbled back, hardly appeared phased by your attack. Physically, anyway.

Emotionally, your boyfriend’s face told you he was hurt by your outburst. The look of hurt soon morphed into one of anger, and before you knew it, the stinging in your cheek silenced any thoughts of walking away.

The slap Topper gave you silenced all of your thoughts, actually. All you were left with was an incessant ringing in your ears, one that filled your head too. You cried out as you clutched your cheek, tears immediately springing forth and sliding down your face.

The first thing you registered when the buzzing stopped was the sound of a dark chuckle, one that you could tell came from the opposite direction of the hand that slapped you.

Rafe couldn’t hide his amusement. He could have, but it wasn’t in his character. So he laughed, louder and harder than was probably necessary, given the situation.

Topper let out a long sigh, mentally cursing himself as you moved to straighten yourself out. Your eyes were puffy and red when you met his unreadable gaze again.

He spoke your name softly, like he was scared to let it roll off of his tongue. “Are you alright?”

“No!” You screamed, voice breaking embarassingly as you did so. “No, Topper, I’m not alright! I’m never alright around you anymore, ever!”

“Look, you don’t mean that-,”

“I do mean that! You’re…you’re crazy. And you, you seriously need to just leave me alone for a while.”

That got Topper going, and he let out a laugh that was eerily similar to that of his kook counterpart’s. “You want me to leave you alone? Seriously, Y/N? You flirt with a guy, put your hands on me, and I’m supposed to leave you alone?”

“You hit me! Again!” You sniffled, reminding your boyfriend that this wasn’t the first time he’d put his hands on her now. He couldn’t try to write this off as another simple ‘accident’.

“God,” the sound of Rafe’s voice cut through the tension in the air. “This one’s a real handful, Top.”

You didn’t appreciate being spoken about as if you weren’t standing inbetween the two boys, in the flesh.

“Don’t let her make you feel bad. Sometimes you gotta slap some sense into em’,” he glared down at you, “especially with a mouth like that.”

“Fuck you!” You couldn’t hold back, humiliation filling you as your boyfriend’s friend spoke of you like you were some child in need of a reprimand, with no protests from Topper.

“He didn’t even hit you that hard, sweetheart. Plus…” You turned to Topper for support when Rafe stalked towards you, but his feet didn’t move, neither did his mouth. A large hand reached for you slowly, one that you quickly swatted away. “You put your hands on him first, I saw it.”

“Are you kidding me-?!”

“So, do what you need to do. Go run and tell whoever you need to tell,” A large, ringed hand came up to brush his own chest. “I’ll make sure to let them know who started this whole thing.”

You hardly had words for the situation unfolding before you. “You’re crazy.”

“Ehh,” the taller boy’s shoulders rose and fell naturally, “but my girl would never try some shit like this. She knows better. You,” he poked at your chest, and you flinched back, “you need to learn to show some respect.”

All you could do was shake your head through your tears, backing away from the oldest Cameron until you felt your back collide with something hard, which you automatically knew to be Topper’s chest. His arms came up to wrap around you, encasing you in his hold against your will as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry, baby. I, it’s not a big deal, okay?” His rasped against your skin, hoping his words didn’t reach the other set of ears further away. The soft kisses he placed on your shoulder, your neck, near your collarbone, only served to chill you to your core as you weakly tried to fend him off. Rafe only rolled his eyes in the distance.

“I just need you to understand where I’m coming from, s’all.”

You didn’t understand where he was coming from. You were incapable of flipping to the same page Topper and Rafe seemed to be on. The older kook watched as you gave in to your boyfriend’s touch, unable to fight off the warmth of his body against yours, of his lips against the skin of your neck. It only embarassed you further, and you knew you didn’t stand a chance against your boyfriend when Rafe was recruited.

“C’mon, we can talk about this later. Can we just get in the truck and go now?” Topper asked, as if you’d been a nuscance, holding up his plans.

Sniffling loudly, you found your voice to reply, “I’m not going anywhere with him.”

Topper sighed, “Baby-,”

“Nah, Top.” Rafe turned to you, “get over it, sweetheart, okay? Top’s takin’ me home, whether you like it or not.”

You searched your boyfriend’s eyes for any reprieve, but with the way his face fell, you knew Rafe was right. Once again, you were outnumbered and practically felt as if you’d been backed into a corner, with nowhere to go except to your boyfriend’s Jeep, despite the voices in your head screaming in protest.

Days had passed since your last interaction with your boyfriend.

Topper was always known to be the level-headed, well-mannered one compared to his Kook counterparts. He feigned a moral compass, unlike Rafe and Kelce.

So his actions at the bonfire last week…scared you, to say the least.

Until you saw your boyfriend holding John B’s head under the water, teeth clenched, veins protruding from his arms and forehead, you couldn’t recall a time you’d actually been scared of your boyfriend.

The same hands that would gently caress your face, same arms that wrapped around you at night, had tried to drown someone.

The same person who’d always made you feel so secure, so safe…suddenly turned into something he would want to protect you from, right in front of your eyes.

“Topper!” Your use of his full name should’ve been enough to pull your boyfriend from the heinous act he was committing. And normally, it would’ve been. But Rafe had gotten in his ear, convinced him that the pogue boy was a problem, and that Rafe’s life wouldn’t be the only one made easier by the absence of John B.

“Topper, stop it!” Your voice cracked as you kept a reasonable distance from the brawl, watching as the two boys took turns driving their fists into each other relentlessly.

“John B.!” Sarah’s voice rang out through the chaos, too. Both of you crying for your boyfriends, knowing there was nothing either of you could do to safely interfere.

The other boys could though, they just chose not to. JJ was too busy egging on his friend, punching the air and jumping around as he encouraged John B. to, “Get his ass! Fuckin’ stomp his kook head in, John B.!”

You’d never seen your boyfriend so violent. Never seen his eyes so dark, void of almost any hue at all as he glared down at the boy who’s neck he was wringing.

It was like a switch had flipped, one you’d only ever known Rafe Cameron to have.

Which, he and Kelce were no better. The kook pair stood by idly, Rafe sporting a look that non-verbally told just how badly he wanted to jump in and help his friend finish the job. “Don’t be a fucking pussy, Top! Man up!” The Cameron boy never offered good advice.

The scene was a mess. A variety of cries and screams fought against the roar of the ocean waves.

Topper eventually stole the upper hand.

When your boyfriend flipped over, claiming a spot on top of John B., you truly thought his next move would be to hoist himself to his feet and leave it at that. He’d already won, if you could even crown a winner in a losing situation like this one. The amount of blood coating John B.’s face and hair made his defeat obvious.

But the crimson liquid was washed away when Topper suddenly fisted a handful of the blonde’s waves and shoved his face under the surface.

You didn’t miss the way the blue water turned a light pink.

And neither did anyone else. Once the collective realization that John B. was no longer fighting back took over, respective friends rushed to the boys’ aid.

You’d stayed at the scene until you could confirm the pogue boy’s safety. Once you saw Kelce claimed Topper and JJ and Pope claimed their friend, you fled from the beach. You stormed right past Topper’s Jeep, returning to your home at Figure 8 on foot.

Topper drove circles around the island, face bloodied from what few hits his opponent did manage, cursing the air at every empty corner.

He’d hoped he’d find you somewhere along the way to your house.

And you did see his familiar olive green Jeep at one point on your journey. Topper just didn’t round the corner fast enough to catch you fling yourself backwards, darting further back from the road.

You were glad he flew past the tree you flung yourself behind. You would’ve done just about anything to avoid him at that moment.

After all, how were you supposed to know what was waiting for you? Who was waiting for you? Clearly, you didn’t even know who you’d been dating for the past few months.

It was one thing to throw a punch or two. The paths of kooks and pogues were bound to cross, and fights were virtually inevitable.

A bruised lip or broken jaw would send someone to the hospital, at best.

But water infiltrating all airways and, filling both lungs… would kill someone.

How could Topper do that? How could your boyfriend do that?

Then your mind jumped to a more morbid thought… what would happen if you made him that mad, too?

You thought about every time you’d so much as struck a nerve of his before.

What if next time, Topper decided not to let the situation simmer?

What if he reacted violently towards you, too?

You didn’t want to find out.

Thinking of being alone with your boyfriend usually made you happy, excited. You looked forward to time together, away from friends and family, just the two of you basking in each other’s company.

But the thought only brought you dread now. You couldn’t face him, not tonight. Not tomorrow.

In fact, when you finally made it home, just you and your thoughts confinded to your bedroom, you weren’t sure when you’d will yourself to see him again.

You could only be sure that it was in your best interest to ignore the calls and texts, pleads from Topper to meet him somewhere, to hear him out.

You’d soon come to regret that decision.

Everything came to a head one particular night. You’d retired to your bedroom, just a small bedside lamp left on to illuminate the pages of the latest book you were enjoying. The stopping point you’d marked was only a page away when a sudden rustling redirected your attention, and your eyes to the window.

You rolled over in your bed and sat up, discarding the novel on the table and facing the window. The sounds grew louder as you rose to your feet.

Slowly, you crept closer. A shaky hand reached out to draw back the curtain…

You gasped when your eyes fell upon the one person you’d been avoiding.

Topper looked stiff, eyes wide as he quickly backed away from the window he was clearly trying to open.

“Top? What are you doing here?”

Topper had never just shown up at your house unannounced before. Let alone in the middle of the night, hanging outside of your bedroom window. Then again, he’d never gone more than an hour without talking to you, more than a day without seeing you before.

“I-I wanted to see you. I needed to talk to you.” He clarified.

“Why are you…at my window?”

His mouth was open, but nothing came out.

Truthfully, Topper was sure some other guy was keeping you company, and he’d planned on sneaking in your room to catch you in the act. “Didn’t wanna wake your parents.” He lied.

There was a moment of silence, eyes meeting and locking until he broke it off, shifting his weight between his feet. Why did he seem nervous?

“I…” You mouth felt dry. You felt uneasy, memories from the past week flooding back. “I don’t think I want you here right now, Topper.” Why did you feel nervous?

He didn’t like your use of his full name. There was a new look on his face now, something you could only equate to…hurt. Hurt, mixed with a growing anger at his girlfriend’s voiced desire to be rid of him.

“You… don’t want me here?” He repeated. You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Oh,” His eyes peered past you, scanning over what he could make out of your dimly lit room. “You got somebody in there?”

You knew the house was empty, yet you still found yourself following Topper’s gaze. “No, Topper. I just…” What could you say? “I just wanna be alone right now.” He tilted his head quizzically, pausing to think for a moment.

“You’ve been ignoring me.” He held his phone up, referencing the countless calls and texts he’d been sending. “So, are you fucking somebody else, or what’s going on?” Something about this new tone told you he wouldn’t be leaving so easily. He looked like he wanted to jump through your window already.

“Topper, I just-“

“No, why don’t you wanna see me? Why? Because I stood up for you? Because I didn’t let that piece of shit pogue make a move on you?” His chest puffed out now, the kook naturally trying to take up more space, hoping to come off as intimidating without even really realizing what he was doing.

Rafe’s voice ran rampant in the boy’s mind. ‘You go there, you show up and you give her a reason to get over this little bitch fit she’s been throwing.’ He’d suggested, tired of his friend’s constant complaining and sulking at the absence of his girlfriend.

“No,” Topper decided. He wasn’t going to be a pushover anymore. “No. No, we need to talk right now.” You didn’t like his tone, but the way his voice was raising had your concern shifting to your parents being alerted instead of what might happen if you gave into his request.

You sighed in defeat as you held up a finger, nonverbally asking him to give you a second.

Topper worried you weren’t coming back, almost deciding to try your window again until he heard the sound of your front door opening.

He was already rounding the porch, clearing the distance between the two of you when you poked your head out.

The first thing he did when he made it up the steps was try to embrace you, but you were quick to step back, just out of reach.

The action had Topper’s face falling. He tried again, and you retreated more.

“What?” A look of confusion crossed his features. “Why won’t you let me touch you?”

You nervously cleared your throat. “Topper, I… I need you to know that you…” You swallowed hard. “You scared me, the last time I saw you…“

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you. You took it as a prompt to further explain, to clear up the confusion he felt.

“I don’t wanna feel that way around you.”

“I scared you?” He asked, as if it was the most outlandish thing in the world.

You didn’t miss the way his muscles flexed as he balled his hands into fists. The Thorton boy dug his nails into his palms, working on an outlet for the anger that was now brewing. You ignored him for a week, just to tell him you were scared of him?

“Y/N/N, come on. You know I didn’t-“ He extended an arm towards you again, almost grabbing your wrist, but you backed away again.

“I’m serious, Topper. I don’t ever want you to do something like that again.”

“I was sticking up for you!”

“I was yelling at you to stop! You tried to drown him, Top-“

“And I’d do it again!” Topper couldn’t help but cut you off, jumping from speaking, to yelling.

“I’d do it again to protect you,” He repeated, calmer this time. It took you a few moments to start shaking your head.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, a deep set frown on your face as you stared in disbelief.

Throughout the entirety of your 6 months together, Topper had never even raised his voice at you, unless it was during a round of golf that he took a little too seriously.

Topper didn’t miss the way the distance between you and the door slowly lessened.

“Don’t-“ His expression was unreadable. He looked like he wanted to reach for you again. “Do not go back in that house, Y/N.” Your hand was already gripping the door frame.

“Top… you’re scaring me again. I…” You straightened your posture. “I want you to leave. Please,”

Topper did the opposite. Without warning, his chest was suddenly pressed to yours, hands gripping your upper arms gently as he stepped over the threshold, backing you into the house.

“Topper! What are you-“

“Shh, shh,” Your boyfriend shushed you as he made it in the living room. “Just listen to me.” This assertiveness was a new trait for him, and it made you feel uneasy.

“You’re my girlfriend, okay? If I feel like someone is a threat to you, of course I’m gonna step in and-“

“He wasn’t a threat, Topper! He didn’t even do anything to me!”

“See!” Topper relased his hold on you to slam his palm down on a nearby table. “That’s it! Right there! That’s the shit Rafe was talking about,”

“Rafe?” You asked, unsure if your ears were failing you or not. “What does Rafe have to do with this?”

Topper knew he’d said too much, so he ignored you. “You’re my girlfriend. You shouldn’t be sticking up for those…those fucking filthy pogues!”

You shook your head at him. “You’re being crazy right now, Top…” You hoped maybe the nickname would bring his temper back down.

All he did was laugh, a sarcastic chuckle as he dropped his gaze to his feet, shaking his head now, too. “I’m crazy…” he repeated.

“I’m crazy?” His gaze shot back to you now. “You wanna be a fucking pogue lover, but I’m the crazy one?!”

“Top, you need to leave, now.” You tried again. You didn’t like the way your boyfriend’s features were morphing into ones similar to what you’d seen that night at the bonfire.

Topper didn’t know what came over him. All of the animosity he felt towards you at the radio silence you gave him for weeks had boiled to the top. Any normal girl would’ve been thankful to have a boyfriend who was willing to jump into any situation to defend her honor. You acting like you were scared of him for sticking up for you? Calling him crazy for something he and his friends saw with their own eyes? That’s was it for him.

The kook reared back, palm angled in towards his face before the back of his hand drove forward and struck you across yours.

You didn’t know what happened at first. All you knew was your ears were suddenly ringing, head pounding, hair in disarray across your face.

Your head was whipped to the side, and it wasn’t until you raised a hand to cup your cheek that all of the blood rushed to it, leaving you with a painful sensation that you weren’t sure burned or stung more.

You couldn’t tell how much time passed as you stood frozen. Eventually, you found the courage to turn back to Topper, who looked just as shocked as you were.

His jaw hung open, brows drew up in concern as he weighed what to do next.

“Y/N, come here-“ He was afraid to try to comfort you. And rightfully so, as you wasted no time frantically swatting at his hand. “Get away from me!” You screamed, scrambling away from him and further into the house.

“I-I didn’t mean to do that, Y/N/N. I-you know I would never hurt you,”

You didn’t know that, clearly. The hand that wasn’t consoling your cheek referenced the front door. “Go, Topper!” Your voice cracked, tears beginning to flow as the realization of what just happened started to sink in.

Your boyfriend tried to drown someone. He tried to kill them. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak with or see him, too sure that you would be met with that version of Topper, the one you didn’t even know existed.

You told him he scared you, asked him to leave after he tried to sneak in your window, and he…he slapped you. He dismissed your fears, and back-handed you across your face.

You wanted to sob. You wanted to scream, run away and collapse to the floor, all at once. But you to will your scrambled brain to focus on getting him out of the house first.

“Why are you still standing there, Topper?! Get out!” This time, you gritted your teeth and used both hands to push him back.

He stumbled over his feet, just short of tumbling backwards over the threshold if it wasn’t for his quick grip on the frame.

You didn’t give him a chance to redeem himself before you slammed the door in his face, barely missing his fingers before he yanked them back.

Only seconds later, you turned and leaned against the door, sliding slowly to the floor as the sobs you’d been witholding, finally surfaced.

And Topper could hear. He stood, slumped against the door with his forehead leaning against the wood. Your cried and sniffles filled his ears, and the realization of what he’d done filled his mind.

Neither of you could will yourself to move, back to the safety of your room or his car. The two of you simply sunk to the floor, and eventually, the tears started to fall for Topper too.