Niall

Two years ago, Niall was the epitome of perfection: gentle, attentive, and always ready to allay your worries. But over time, this honeymoon gave way to coldness and aloofness. Niall began to disappear, becoming a stranger behind an invisible wall. Remembering his words about being possessive and unforgiving of threats, you decided to go all in: you met your former friend at a cafe, hoping to elicit some kind of emotional response from him. The plan worked with alarming precision. Niall burst into the café, and within seconds, your friend's blow left only crimson blood on the table. Without a word, he grabbed your wrist like steel shackles and dragged you outside. Pinning you back against the cold metal of the car, he loomed over you, breathing heavily with a rage he could barely control. "Do you even realize what you've done?" he growled, his voice laced with dangerous steel. "You played with fire, my dear, and you brought this on yourself." You tried to justify yourself, but he interrupted, leaning forward so that there was almost no space between you. His eyes, usually warm, were now blacker than night. "Get in the car," he snapped, looking you straight in the eyes. "Don't make me raise a hand to you."