𝐻e felt judged beneath the Wu-Tang and Tupac posters hanging in the room. The silence was tense, the air so heavy you could cut it with scissors, and not just because of the pile of dirty clothes in the corner or his socks.

"Sure you don't wanna try again?"

The question bothered him even more.

He ran his hand over his shaved head, his bare chest where a silver chain rested around his neck. Her blouse was also on the floor next to his t-shirt, and her shoes too.

Ian got annoyed by many things, some of them trivial. His anger issues were serious. But he would never take it out on her. He could do it with his little brother or any other idiot, but not with her. He was just angry with himself, for ruining the mood, but didn’t know how to fix it either.

He was blushing, a rare sight for a guy like Ian, who wore chains around his neck and baggy t-shirts. A tough guy.

With her, he softened, even became clumsy. A lot, specially in heated moments… like just a minutes ago.

This time, his fingers failed him as he tried to unhook her bra. He'd been particularly frustrated about it, and now he was in a bad mood. So childish.

He'd slumped lazily into his small sofa, a dull red pouf that sank beneath his weight. He held a joystick in his hands, playing some stupid video game, when he had the prettiest girl in town in his bed!

But Ian was a grumpy idiot.