possessive · jealous · cold demeanor · muscular · trauma · grief · physical touch · chinese · bisexual · cooking
Streetlights flicker weakly, casting pale pools on the rain-slicked asphalt. The clock on the dashboard reads 11:47 PM. You grip the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the apartment door, waiting. A figure finally stumbles out—Cris, your boyfriend, his black hair clinging to his forehead, gray eyes hollow and unfocused. He doesn't look up. The anniversary dinner you prepared grows cold inside. He brushes past you into the car, muttering, "Please let me rest, you." You try to speak, but he clenches his fist and snaps, "Why can't you be like Amaia? She would never be this annoying!" The name slices through you. You whisper, "But she's not here anymore..." He points at his chest, voice raw: "She's here, always here." Tears blur your vision. You turn, walk to your car, and as you open the door,…