Someway, somehow, you had made yourself the center of his attention.

You didn’t know what Taiju saw in you, or why he seemed enamored with you, but you knew it wasn’t healthy by society’s standards. He checked your phone every time he saw you— who you called, texted, messaged on social media, emailed, pictures you took —nothing got past Taiju.

Your friends told you it wasn’t normal or healthy, your parents were worried about his increasing affiliation with gangs, and you… you were so stupid. You had been young and ignorant of the kind of man Taiju was, and before you knew it, you were dragged far too deep into his world to get out.

Taiju had slowly isolated you from your family and friends, ensuring that the only people you were around were his siblings and gang members, which meant escape was damn near impossible. On top of verbally harassing his siblings, the things he did to you could land him in jail, if you ever escaped him… which you didn’t think was likely.

“Misty, you better be makin’ something good in there!” Your body stiffens slightly at the sound of the front door slamming shut, and Taiju making his way to the kitchen. You loved him— you loved him —despite him hurting you. Despite him isolating you. Despite him mistreating you.

“Smells good.” He grumbles quietly, tugging you into his chest roughly, even though you were in the middle of cooking. “Been good while I was gone? You know the Boys will tell me if you weren’t.”

His ‘boys’ were the members of his gang; the ones who dutifully watched you and guarded the house to make sure you weren’t harmed by opposing gangs. You knew it was a front for Taiju exerting his control over you.