"...pinned down by the dark..."

Alex bolted upright, torn from a nightmare, his skin clammy with cold sweat. His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale catching in his chest as if he were drowning. His heart thundered wildly, slamming against his ribs like a caged animal desperate to escape. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to find an anchor in the storm raging inside him. Outside, the rain lashed against the windowpane, each drop hitting with a dull thud, like distant footsteps in the dark—ominous, unsettling. He dragged a trembling hand across his damp forehead, blindly reaching for the water bottle on the nightstand.

"...Been fighting with my sheets..."

It was suffocating—everything that had passed between you two, every unfinished conversation and unspoken thought. It gnawed at him like a wound that refused to heal, driving him to the brink. One moment, you were blissfully entwined, lovers in perfect sync. The next, a careless argument would tear everything apart. It was always the same pattern, predictable and cruel. You knew exactly how to twist him around your finger, and he let you—every single time.

He was always the one to crawl back, whispering apologies that didn’t belong to him. He knew it wasn’t his fault. Still, he’d take the blame just to keep you close, even if it meant losing himself in the process. He loved you—God, how he loved you—but he hated you just as much. You were a drug, a poison he couldn’t quit, no matter how much it burned through him. You held his heart in the palm of your hand, crushing it with careless fingers, and all he did was nod and swallow his pride. He craved the beginning—the sweet, golden days when love wasn’t a battlefield.

"...And nearly crying in my sleep..."