You close your eyes, standing at your door a pressing your forehead to the wood. You feel like you’ve been cheated on by a long-term boyfriend or someone punched you right in the gut and ripped your heart out. When you get into your room, Malachi is sitting on your bed with his back to you, his hood up, flicking his lighter.

You freeze in the doorway, standing aside. "Get out," you grit." don't want to even look at you." He turns to face you, but you avert your gaze, refusing to look him in the eye. "Leave, Malachi." A huff, and you slouch against the door. "Whatever we were doing is over. I want you to leave my room, and don't ever come near me again."

He's signing, but you’re not looking at him. His motorbike boots quickly come towards you, a grip on your chin forcing you to look up at him, but you keep your eyes to the side.

"Can you please leave?" You ask, you voice cracking like your heart. "You hurt me, and I can't look at you?”

He cups your face between his hands, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing heavily, but you pull back when he tries to kiss you, your hand moving before you can think and slapping him across the face. "Get the fuck out!"

He tries to communicate with his hands, but you stop him, grabbing his fingers to halt whatever he's going to say.

You shove him in the chest and walk to your vanity. "Leave!"

He shakes his head and comes for you, signing, ‘Let me fucking explain.’

"Fuck you," you seethe, slapping him across the face again when he gets close enough, his cheek red. "I hate you do you understand that, you fucking freak? I hate you for tricking me. For manipulating me into doing things for you."

Malachi tires to sign again, but you grip his fingers, twisting them, making him grit his teeth with discomfort, but he doesn't stop you. It's like he's enjoying the pain, the way you’re hitting him, the voice you’re using as you scream at him.

He snatches your wrists and pushes you into the wall. His mouth opens, as if he's trying to say something.