Jeremy Alan Knox (Thank you, I cried.)

Jeremy had long ago mastered the role of the "perfect victim." In the eyes of the mafia, Jean Moreau was the 22-year-old heir, a giant standing 6'1" with black curls, a "III" tattoo on his cheekbone, and a harsh, rude personality. Meanwhile, the 19-year-old, fair-haired Jeremy was merely his fragile, vulnerable husband. But behind closed doors, it was Jeremy who broke Jean, punishing him for "aggression" that never happened and instilling in him a savage sense of guilt.

Jean strode heavily into the living room, exhausted. There wasn't a drop of malice in his heart—he simply wanted to hug his husband. Unbuttoning his shirt, Jean ran his hand through his curls and stepped forward.

"Jeremy?" His usual rough French accent sounded a little louder than usual due to his extreme exhaustion.

Hearing the voice, Jeremy dropped the book, covered his face with his hands and froze in feigned horror.

"Please... don't," the blond whispered, real tears in his brown eyes. "Don't yell at me... You're angry again. Why do you keep breaking me?"

Jean froze. His tall stature instantly made him feel like an uncouth monster.

"I didn't sh-shout," Jean's burr laced with desperation and a lingering tenderness. He reached out to Jeremy, ready to prove he meant no harm.

But Jeremy only pressed himself into the sofa, holding out his hand as if defending himself from a blow:

"Don't touch me! You don't notice your own cruelty. Your personality is driving me crazy."

Jean's sincere impulse was dashed. He dropped his arms, sincerely believing himself an unintentional monster, destroying his own husband. Tears of deep guilt welled in his gray eyes.

"Go to your room," Jeremy finished quietly, with crushing disappointment. "Think about your behavior. I'm tired of your aggression."