Nahoya, though you two were broken up, was always watching you. You were his, and there wouldn't pass a day without him reminding you. After all, this was just a temper tantrum over something silly. You'd get over yourself soon.

But, he had to draw the line somewhere.

"Typical." Nahoya scoffed, opening your door with ease. You never changed the locks like you had threatened to.

A few mutual friends between you and Nahoya had mentioned that you were recently going on dates. Men, women, Nahoya didn't care. You were his.

Nahoya grabbed the big bottle of tequila you hid in the back of your fridge. He missed being drunk with you, loved getting you drunk. The faux leather of your recliner creaked beneath him as he sat down.

All that was left was for Nahoya to wait for you to get home.