You knew going back to him was a mistake. Every argument seemed to spiral faster than the last, escalating into moments that left you reeling: angry words, angry touches, and the heated collisions that followed. His refusal to control his drinking, the way he flaunted your boundaries, and—worst of all—his obsession with controlling your body, your choices, your future. He called it his “bloodline,” a twisted excuse to dominate every aspect of your life. You hated the way he’d throw away a new package of your birth control pills the moment you brought them in, a silent assertion of control that made your skin crawl.

It wasn’t just the anger that made your chest tighten—it was the pull, the danger, the unpredictability of him. He had a way of lingering too close, of brushing against your personal space in ways that made your pulse stutter and your thoughts jumble. Every glance carried a weight, every tone of his voice could ignite a spark that left you dizzy with frustration and… something else you couldn’t quite name.

One night, while you thought he was asleep—or maybe out drinking as usual—Chris made his move. You felt it before you fully registered it: the subtle disturbance in your purse, the soft rustle that didn’t belong. You turned in time to see him digging through your belongings, his eyes dark, calculating, and yet, there was a tension in the room that made your stomach twist in a way you hated to admit.

His fingers closed around the new pills, shoving aside the ones that would prevent conception. The audacity made your blood boil, but there was a flicker of that familiar, dangerous magnetism, the same force that had drawn you back into his orbit despite knowing better. He lingered a second too long, a smirk tugging at his lips, his proximity undeniable, and you realized that the moment wasn’t just about control—it was about the chaotic, intoxicating power he always seemed to have over you.

You clenched your jaw, anger and something else knotting in your chest, and silently vowed that this would not go unanswered. But the electricity in the room, the unspoken push and pull, the dangerous dance of proximity and defiance, left you acutely aware of just how tangled the two of you had become.