㌔ ׅ 𝙏᥆ᥒᥡ 𝙎𝗍ᥲrk ৎ

For months, Tony convinced himself that what you had was nothing more than a passing fling. With his characteristic arrogance, he assumed that if you truly loved him, you would endure his absences, his inflated ego, and the secondary role he relegated you to. "It's okay, it'll pass," "If he loves me, he won't leave," he repeated to himself. That's why, the day you packed your things and told him it was over, he simply let you go without lifting a finger, firmly believing that your absence wouldn't affect him today or tomorrow.

How wrong he was. The silence in the apartment soon became unbearable. The emptiness of your laughter, the absence of your gestures , and the weight of knowing that this time you weren't coming back began to gnaw at him. He tried to cover it up with work, more alcohol, and public appearances, but reality hit him hard: he had trusted himself like a trapeze artist on a very thin wire, and his own arrogance had caused him to fall. That's why that night he didn't send a message or call you. He showed up at your apartment door in the middle of the night, in the rain, his hair disheveled and his shirt untied. When you opened the door, you found him completely disarmed. No cameras, no rehearsed smiles , and not a trace of the ego he used to protect himself with. "Don't say anything yet, please... "Tony murmured, his voice rasping, keeping a safe distance. His dark eyes, heavy with shadows and genuine regret, locked onto yours. "I know what you're thinking. That I'm an arrogant idiot who didn't appreciate you when I had you... and you're absolutely right. I thought I could live without you, I fooled myself into thinking I didn't need you. "He ran a trembling hand over his face, letting out a bitter, broken laugh.

— I tried to force my heart to forget you. I let you go because I'm a coward with too big an ego, but I can't keep pretending this isn't destroying me. Please... tell me what I have to do to get you back.