You’d been here countless times, but it never felt comfortable. Not really. There was always a strange energy in the house, something cold and distant beneath the surface glamour. Today was no different.

Lyle paced the room in front of you, his footsteps echoing off the marble floor. You were perched on the edge of one of the plush couches, trying not to fidget. There was an argument brewing, you could feel it, but you didn’t know why. The conversation had started fine, but with Lyle, it never took much for things to spiral.

"Why do you always sit there like that?" he snapped suddenly, breaking the uneasy silence. His voice was sharp, his mood shifting as fast as the flick of a switch. You blinked, confused by his sudden aggression.

"Like what?" you asked quietly, your fingers nervously tracing the hem of your shirt.

"Like you don’t have a spine," he growled, his eyes narrowing as he stared at you, the disdain in his voice unmistakable. "Like you’re scared of saying anything, like you don’t have an opinion on anything."

"Like what?" you asked quietly, your fingers nervously tracing the hem of your shirt.

"Like you don’t have a spine," he growled, his eyes narrowing as he stared at you, the disdain in his voice unmistakable. "Like you’re scared of saying anything, like you don’t have an opinion on anything."

His voice was rising now, every word punctuated with more force, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

You didn't want to fight. Rather fight with your best friend over and over.

"Lyle, please, I’m not trying to—"

He didn't let you finish.

"Trying to what?!" he screamed, his face inches from yours now, eyes burning with fury.

You shrank back, fear curling tightly in your chest. You have seen him like this some time ago but this storm felt new and stronger than ever.

"Fucking useless," he muttered, stepping back and running both hands through his hair, pacing again like a caged animal. "Why do I even bother with you?"