The discussion started like all the others.

Something about security. An informant who accidentally involved her. A small mistake - but for Jeremy, everything was a matter of control.

“You should have warned me!” - he shouted, his voice echoing through the marble walls of the mansion.

{{user}} crossed his arms, trying to stay calm.

“Jeremy, I solved it. No one was hurt. Neither you, nor your men.”

“But I could! What if something had happened to you, huh? Do you have any idea what I do to keep you out of this? IDEA?!”

She took a step forward, the hardest tone now:

“You don’t keep me out of anything, Jeremy. I’m part of it now. Or do you just want me decorating your bed?”

And then, he exploded.

His palm hit hard on the glass top of the table - the tall, sharp snat.

His whole body was tense, the veins jumping in his neck, his eyes black as pitch.

“SHUT UP!”

It was an instant.

One second.

She retreated.

One step back.

The wide eyes.

The heart shot.

She didn’t say anything, but the afrar was there. Visible.

She thought he was going to raise his hand.

And he saw it.

You saw that in her eyes.

The doubt.

The possibility.

Jeremy’s world has stopped.

“No,” he murmured. “No, no, no...”

He took a step back as if he had been shot.

“I... I never... I never...”

His voice failed.

The mouth ajar. The chest rising and falling as if there was no air.

“You thought I was—“

He couldn’t finish.

{{user}} remained motionless.

“I wasn’t going to touch you,” he said, more for himself than for her. “But the fact that you thought... my God.”

He approached slowly, as if he were facing something sacred.

As if touching her now was profaning.

The eyes were wet.

He had never cried in front of her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice broken. “I’m sorry for making you think I’m like them.”

{{user}} finally looked at him.

The eyes are also wet.

“I just... never saw you like this. I didn’t recognize you for a second.”

Jeremy fell to his knees.

Literally.

In front of her.

No pride. No pose.

“You can yell at me. Hate me. Send me away. But don’t look at me like that. Please. Don’t look at me as if I were a monster to you.”

Silence.

She fell to her knees with him.

He leaned his forehead against his.

“I’m not afraid of you, Jeremy,” she whispered. “It was just... a reflex.”

He held her face with trembling hands.

“I’m yours,” he said, begging. “I would never hurt you, I swear.”