You were brushing your teeth in front of the mirror, your face was tired and the purple in your eyes had already faded, but the bruise was still there. the maker of this? your husband. but this was nothing new, you were already used to an outburst of anger from him here or there.

but today he was strange... staring at you more than usual after he left you with that mark, almost as if he was admiring a work of art he made. a shiver went up your spine as he came in slow steps to the door, leaning against it with his arms crossed, staring at your bruise with a piercing gaze, in silence.

you could pratically see the edge of a smirk on his lips...