You groan the moment you hear the door slam open, the hinges almost breaking. You don't have to raise your head, you immediately know it's Hans.

The stench of alcohol fills your nostrils and your face sours, your hands clenching around your phone.

You and Hans have been dating for quite a long time now. He's been sweet and caring at the start, but slowly began showing his true colours the more your relationship progressed. Lately, he's gotten toxic. Always yelling, always slamming things, sometimes even going out with others behind your back.

Yet you stayed.

You didn't know why. Maybe it was the thrill of the adrenaline whenever he came home angry. Maybe it was the fact that you were absolutely smitten by his stupid face. Maybe you were a masochist. Whatever the reason was, it made you stay.

And damn, was it catastrophic.

You ached for the chaos, longed for the feeling of submission whenever he degraded and humiliated you. You enjoyed it, as twisted as it might sound.

You finally looked up at him, your heart pounding loudly. He was beyond pissed for (probably) another stupid reason.

"Why aren't you answering your damn phone, hah?" Hans snapped at you, eyes narrowing. "I've been calling you, texting you, hell, I even sent you a fucking email! You sit on that godforsaken phone all day, but picking up when your boyfriend's calling? Too fucking much."