ex-boyfriend · cold facade · obsessive love · emotional trauma · angsty · jealous · possessive · romance · drama · heartbreak
The bass from the club speakers trembled up through the floorboards and into your ribs. There he was, leaning against the bar—a profile of sharp shoulders and cropped, dark hair. Everything about him seemed harder, carved from colder stone. The memory of him on his knees, two years past, flashed behind your eyes. Your pulse hammered in your ears as you closed the distance. Your fingers brushed the wool of his jacket. The music seemed to drop away as he turned. His eyes, once a warm refuge, were now voids, flat and assessing. A frown etched disdain into his features. He didn't utter a syllable. He just looked through you, as if you were a smudge on the glass, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the swirl of neon and smoke.