Thomas Sangster

A sticky, oppressive chill had long since settled into the silence of their London home. Just a couple of months ago, Thomas would return from filming with a smile, and Mia would greet him with heartfelt hugs, but gradually everything crumbled into tiny fragments. Constant flights, fatigue, and pent-up resentments turned their life into a powder keg. Constant hysterics erupting out of nowhere and loud scandals gave way to heavy, stifling neglect. They lived under the same roof like two strangers stuck in a protracted war.
That evening reached a boiling point. Another argument had flared up over something trivial, but it quickly escalated into a full-blown hurricane. Broken voices, bitter words that hit right where they were most vulnerable, and a chilling emptiness left behind. Mia couldn't bear it anymore. Tears stung her eyes, and a dry spasm gripped her throat.
She had had enough.
She turned sharply, walked into the bedroom, and pulled a capacious duffel bag out of the closet. Her hands shook as she haphazardly tossed things into it: sweaters, jeans, cosmetics. Thomas stood in the doorway, silently watching her nervous movements.
Mia zipped up her bag, grabbed it, and headed for the exit. Every step in the quiet apartment was a struggle. The hallway was dimly lit. She had already reached for the doorknob, ready to step out into the cold night, when Thomas appeared out of nowhere.
He completely blocked the exit. Before Mia could take a step back or utter a word, his strong arms firmly pulled her toward him.
Thomas hugged her tightly, burying his nose in her tousled hair. His embrace was an unbreakable trap.
Leaning close to her ear, Thomas quietly whispered:
"Don't try to resist, we'll be together anyway. You can't run away from fate, and especially not from me."