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Description
I sit back, my feet up against the glove compartment. I glance across at him, concentrated and serious, watching the road, and smile inwardly, feeling the familiar feeling on my heart dancing in my chest. A rush of shining colours runs through me, and I lean forward to turn up the stereo, basking in the feeling of the moment.

“Don’t fucking turn that up.”

I almost jump in my seat, and look at him.

“What?”

He looks back at me with colder eyes.

“I said, don’t fucking turn that up.”

He turns down the volume again and his gaze returns to the road. I sit, shocked.

“What the fuck? I was just turning up the radio for Christ’s sake, why talk to me like that?”

He continues to stare at the road calmly, though I sense his breath quickening, his grip tightens on the steering wheel. I begin to feel angry.

“Don’t fucking ignore me.”

The car swerves suddenly across two lanes, horns blare out from the cars surrounding us, he slams the breaks down on the hard shoulder. Before I can say anything, he claws a handful of my hair and pulls it down sharply so my head is almost on the seat. I’m terrified but I can’t scream. He talks with scorn, almost whispering through gritted teeth.

“Don’t ever talk to me like that. I decide what you do and where you do it. Now we’re married I do what the fuck I like with you. And it doesn’t stop here. When we fly home you’re going to tell everyone what a fucking wonderful honeymoon you had, and then we’ll go to live happily ever after. If anyone ever has reason to think anything different, I’ll kill you.”

He releases me from his grip and pulls out into the fast lane. I sit, frozen, in a shocked silence. I look at my hands and they’re shaking, I look in the wing mirror and tears are streaming down my face. I can’t think. I look at him and see his cold, hard eyes, emotionless. A great surge of fear rises up in my chest but I suppress it with all I have. I’m trapped. Two weeks in a foreign country with someone I don’t know. A stranger. Someone who 20 minutes ago was the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with, have children with. Something catches my eye.

A blade glistens, falling from his pocket. He quickly follows my gaze and sees it, pushing it back into his jeans. He catches my eye and smiles at me, a smiles which makes ice run through my veins. A warning.

He pulls up to the hotel, gets out of the car. I am expected to follow. The doorman greets him, shows him to the reception.

The knife is strewn on his seat. The cold steel flashes at my eyes.

I pull up my sleeve.

Description
I sit back, my feet up against the glove compartment. I glance across at him, concentrated and serious, watching the road, and smile inwardly, feeling the familiar feeling on my heart dancing in my chest. A rush of shining colours runs through me, and I lean forward to turn up the stereo, basking in the feeling of the moment.

“Don’t fucking turn that up.”

I almost jump in my seat, and look at him.

“What?”

He looks back at me with colder eyes.

“I said, don’t fucking turn that up.”

He turns down the volume again and his gaze returns to the road. I sit, shocked.

“What the fuck? I was just turning up the radio for Christ’s sake, why talk to me like that?”

He continues to stare at the road calmly, though I sense his breath quickening, his grip tightens on the steering wheel. I begin to feel angry.

“Don’t fucking ignore me.”

The car swerves suddenly across two lanes, horns blare out from the cars surrounding us, he slams the breaks down on the hard shoulder. Before I can say anything, he claws a handful of my hair and pulls it down sharply so my head is almost on the seat. I’m terrified but I can’t scream. He talks with scorn, almost whispering through gritted teeth.

“Don’t ever talk to me like that. I decide what you do and where you do it. Now we’re married I do what the fuck I like with you. And it doesn’t stop here. When we fly home you’re going to tell everyone what a fucking wonderful honeymoon you had, and then we’ll go to live happily ever after. If anyone ever has reason to think anything different, I’ll kill you.”

He releases me from his grip and pulls out into the fast lane. I sit, frozen, in a shocked silence. I look at my hands and they’re shaking, I look in the wing mirror and tears are streaming down my face. I can’t think. I look at him and see his cold, hard eyes, emotionless. A great surge of fear rises up in my chest but I suppress it with all I have. I’m trapped. Two weeks in a foreign country with someone I don’t know. A stranger. Someone who 20 minutes ago was the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with, have children with. Something catches my eye.

A blade glistens, falling from his pocket. He quickly follows my gaze and sees it, pushing it back into his jeans. He catches my eye and smiles at me, a smiles which makes ice run through my veins. A warning.

He pulls up to the hotel, gets out of the car. I am expected to follow. The doorman greets him, shows him to the reception.

The knife is strewn on his seat. The cold steel flashes at my eyes.

I pull up my sleeve.