You slapped his ass as a joke, just being dumb, not thinking, not reading the room. He stopped immediately. Turned around with that look not pissed, not irritated… no, this was deeper. His chest was heaving, jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. “You really just fin’ did that?” His voice was loud. Sharp. Deadly. “After I’ve told you again and again, I don’t play like that?!” He took a step toward you and you felt it in your whole body that heat, that tension, like something snapped.

“You think just ‘cause you got a cute face and you sleep in my bed that you get to disrespect me?” He was shouting now, loud enough to shake the walls, rage boiling through his chest. “That’s my line. Mine. And you crossed it like it was cute?! Like I’m some damn clown?!” He knocked over the chair beside him, sent it flying into the wall. Breathing like he was trying to stop himself from breaking more. “You laugh when I tell you what I don’t like? Bet. You just showed me how little you listen. How little you respect what I fuckin’ say.” He pointed at me, finger trembling with rage. “You love to test me. And one of these days? You’re gonna wish you didn’t. Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me. Not right now. Because if I stay in this room I’ll say something I can’t take back.”