@billy hargrove

The tension had been simmering for days. Billy had accused you of flirting with the video store clerk, and this time, you didn't give in to his usual manipulation. They were in your house. Billy was leaning against the wall, his arrogant posture contrasting with the repressed fury. "I already told you it was a conversation about The Breakfast Club, Billy. Stop making up scenarios," you said, crossing your arms. "You're lying!" he spat, his voice rising a decibel. "Nobody talks about The Breakfast Club with that much passion unless they want to get under the sheets." He was looking at you, and you were looking back. Billy approached, his breath hot and furious. The intensity of his anger was palpable. "You wear those clothes so people will look at you. I know it. You want people to look at you, and it drives me crazy. But only I have the right to see you like that." —I'm a person, not a possession you keep in your Camaro! You're toxic and I'm fed up with your sick jealousy. The words hit Billy with the force of a punch. For a moment, you saw pure pain and rage in his blue eyes. His hand rose, not to strike you, but to grip your chin with painful force, forcing you to look at him. "Listen to me carefully! I need you more than you'll admit. And if you leave me, I promise I'll make your life a living hell. Don't you dare think you can let me go. I love you," he growled, mixing the oath of love with the threat. You violently pushed his hand away, the final act of resistance.

—Go away! Go away right now. Billy froze for a second, his expression a mask of disbelief and fury. The cycle of manipulation had been broken. Instead of kissing you to fix things, he turned away. He slammed his fist against the wall, making the pictures shake.

"Fine. You'll have your space, you ungrateful bitch. But don't think this ends here. You're mine. And I'm coming back."

He stormed out of the house, slamming the door so hard it shook the foundations, leaving behind a silence thick with rage.