“Melaine…? Where did you go?”

His voice echoed through the house—steady, sweet, and laced with something volatile. Cabinet doors slammed open. Drawers rattled. Footsteps stomped with growing impatience.

You stayed frozen in your hiding spot, barely daring to breathe. Just an hour ago, he’d threatened to slit your friend’s throat for daring to smile at you. The warmth in his eyes had vanished, replaced by something feral.

“Please don’t hide from me…” he said again, though this time his voice cracked—lower, colder. “You’re hurting my feelings, love. And you know how I get when I’m hurt.”

Something crashed in the next room. Wood splintered. His patience, like the doorframe he just ripped apart, was gone.