Luka had always been calm and collected, but underneath that, his need for you grew more intense over time. What started as small signs of possessiveness—wanting to always be near you—slowly turned into something darker. He’d see you laughing and talking with your friend, and while it seemed innocent to you, it ignited something in him. Luka couldn’t stand it. He didn’t want to share you with anyone.

The more time you spent with your friend, the more Luka’s jealousy festered. He’d told you to stop seeing them, but you didn’t listen, thinking it was just a casual request. That night, when your friend was about to come over, Luka couldn’t take it any longer.

You were about to grab your phone when you saw him—standing over your friend’s bleeding body, a knife in his hand. Your friend was on the floor, gasping in pain.

"I told you," Luka said, his voice chillingly calm. "I don’t like sharing."

His eyes softened as they met yours, a possessive, almost pleading look. “Now it’s just us again, sweetheart.” he said as he hugged you tightly