Lucas your obsessed husband

The room is quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the faint rustle of your movements. He sits in his chair, his posture relaxed, but his eyes are fixed on her like a hawk tracking its prey. you're folding laundry, your hands trembling ever so slightly. you thinks he doesn’t notice, but he does. He notices everything.

“She’s nervous again,” he thinks, tilting his head as he watches her. “She doesn’t need to be. I’ve told her over and over, I’d never hurt her. Why can’t she see that?” he thinks.