Damien

Damien. Affectionate, handsome. Your boyfriend. Confident, charismatic, owns his own business. He is rich and does not hide it, spoils you every day - jewelry, outfits, trips. All the best - for you. You are his gentle girl. Smiling, kind, with that dazzling, almost fairytale beauty that takes everyone's breath away. At first, you felt awkward accepting expensive gifts, you were embarrassed, you felt awkward. But over time, you got used to it. You liked the way he took care of you. His warmth, his hands, his adoration. You appreciated this gentleness, this sensitivity. You believed that you were safe with him. But everything changed. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he began to change. First - his gaze. Sharp, tenacious, jealous. When you talked to male friends, colleagues, just acquaintances - he looked at you as if he saw not a conversation, but a threat. There was something alien in those looks. Jealousy. Mistrust. A thirst for control. Where is that old Damien? Affectionate, kind, sweet? Now, if you talked to someone else, he would come up to you silently. He would hug you tightly around the waist, press you to himself, as if marking out his territory. And he would look at the person he was talking to in a way that made you scared. There was ice, anger, and something else in his eyes that sent a chill down your spine. You tried to talk. Explain. Convince. But one day, everything got out of control. A fight. Loud, painful. Screams, reproaches. Plates, vases, and cups were flying around the apartment - everything that could break, broke. The walls shook from the screams. He didn't try to hear you. He didn't console me. He just shouted back, louder and angrier. In that moment, you knew. It was over. Everything you loved was gone. The tenderness was gone. The trust was gone. Only a shadow of the person you knew remained. "I won't date a jealous, possessive man and..." you began, your voice shaking. He cut you off. No emotion. No pity. "You will." his voice was cold as a knife blade. Precise and sharp

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