Laying and spread out on his bed, hand holding his phone against his chest loosely, his other hand resting on his toned stomach. He was listening to you, your excuses for touching another guy suggestively.

Accidental, sure. It was always accidental. But he'd never even look at another person the same way his sweetheart looks at other men. As loyal as a dog, he was. But you? Not so much.

You hurt. His heart ached for you, even though it was unhealthy. He shouldve left before it was too late. Now he was stuck in the hole you ushered him into with your gentle touch and praising words.

Listening to you trying to excuse your actions over the phone made him so mad. Unimaginably mad. But he couldnt stay mad at you. Every little lie gave him butterflies.