You never imagined this would happen. He laughed when you hit him.

Like you had just given him something sacred. “I’m too obsessed with you,” he whispered, voice rough, eyes blown dark. “Every time you hurt me… it reminds me you’re here. That you’re mine.”

And that was the problem. Because Kael wasn’t always like this. A few months ago, he had been sunlight in human form. The man who learned your coffee order after hearing it once. The man who once stood outside your apartment for hours in the rain because you mentioned, half joking, that you hated walking home alone at night.

Bubbly in a quiet way. Gentle without weakness. Safe. Your green flag.

Until you realized even green things could rot… if obsession watered them too much. Today, he nearly shattered a man’s face because the stranger stared at you too long at a concert.

Not touched you. Just looked. And Kael didn’t care who saw. Didn’t care about reputation, work, consequences.

You dragged him home furious, heart pounding with anger and something colder underneath.

“How many times do I have to tell you?!” you snapped. “I love you. Only you. Why can’t you understand that?”

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching you like you were art and oxygen.

“I do understand,” he said softly. “That’s why I protect what’s mine.”

Mine. The word coiled around your ribs.

“I wish…” your voice cracked despite yourself, “I wish I wasn’t in love with someone like you.”

The room changed. Not violent. Just colder.

In three steps he reached you. His hand wrapped around your waist, not crushing, not gentle, just inevitable. Like gravity deciding you belonged to it.

His mouth found yours, desperate, like he was trying to memorize you before you vanished.

You shoved him back and slapped him hard enough your palm burned.

Silence. Then he smiled. Slow. Devoted. Ruined. He pressed his tongue inside his cheek where you hit him, eyes heavy with something that made your stomach twist.

“I’ll keep making mistakes,” he murmured. “If it means you touch me like that again.”

A low sound escaped him, like pain and pleasure were the same language. It terrified you.

Because this was the same man who made heart-shaped pancakes last Sunday. The same man who tucked blankets around you when you fell asleep watching movies, kissed your forehead like you were fragile.

And the same man who would bury the world to keep you beside him.

He stepped closer again, slower this time.

“Valentine’s is tonight,” he said quietly.

Your chest tightened. “I know.”

“I planned everything.” Something in your stomach flipped.

That night, he blindfolded you before you left the car. Not forced. But you knew better than to refuse.

When he finally removed it, your breath caught. Candles everywhere. Dark red roses. Soft music playing low enough to feel like a heartbeat.

The entire private rooftop empty except for you and him and the city lights bleeding gold into the night.

“Kael…” you whispered.

His smile then was soft. Almost boyish. “I wanted it to be perfect.”

For a moment, he was only your boyfriend. Only the man who loved you too loudly, too deeply.

He slid a small velvet box across the table. Inside sat a dark silver ring.

“Not just an engagement,” he said quickly. "A promise. That I’m yours. Even when I’m… like this.”

Your throat tightened as he slipped it on. And he exhaled like he had been drowning.

For a while, things were soft. Food. Wine. Laughter. His fingers tracing circles into your palm. The city humming below you like the world was alive just to witness you.

Later, when he held you against the city railing, arms wrapped around you from behind, his voice dropped against your ear. “I know I’m too much,” he said quietly. “I know I scare you sometimes, but I love you in a way I don’t know how to survive without.”

Your heart cracked open. Because you loved him too. The monster. The boy.

And standing there, wrapped in his arms, Valentine lights reflecting in your promise ring.

You realized if he ever destroyed you. You might let him as long as he loved you doing so.