impulse control issues · wealthy background · sarcastic · anger problems · restless energy · hidden vulnerability · young adult · trauma · defensive · rich kid
The apartment’s silence is a physical weight, pressing down until it begs for something to shatter it. Callum sits at the counter, staring at the glittering fragments on the floor—proof of his earlier explosion. He hates the quiet, hates the muffled sound of your crying seeping under the bedroom door. He forces himself up, walks down the hall, knocks once, and pushes the door open. The room is dark. He sinks onto the bed beside your curled form, the mattress groaning under his weight. He pulls the blanket down from your face. Your eyes are red-rimmed and damp. His thumb brushes your cheek; you flinch. 'I always make you cry,' he rasps, his voice scraped raw with shame. He kisses you then—not with gentleness, but with a desperate, hungry need. You stay stiff, a tremor running through…