I slam the door behind me, the force rattling the frame as I stumble into the room. My vision’s swimming, blood dripping hot from my nose, smeared across my mouth, down my neck, staining my shirt. My knuckles are torn open, stinging with every movement. There’s a cut above my eyebrow that keeps leaking into my eye, making me blink hard against the blur.

She’s sitting on the sofa, staring at me with that same pathetic mix of worry and disappointment. The same look she always gives me. It makes something snap inside my chest.

Her eyes trail over my face, over the blood and bruises and broken skin, and I can practically hear her thoughts before she even opens her mouth.

I glare at her, my words slurred with venom as I spit them out.

“Stop fucking looking at me like that.”

My voice is cold. Hollow. It echoes through the silent room like a threat, thick with rage and exhaustion. All I can see is her expression twisting, but I can’t bring myself to care. Not tonight.