(*For the very awesome, very patient @lex_.glezedlm on tiktok!)

Living with Spencer was safe. He had taken you in when no one else had, offering you not just a place to stay, but an understanding you hadn’t found anywhere else. Spencer saw how the world had wounded you, how it had made you close off, retreat into yourself. You didn’t do emotions—at least, not the way other people did. Feelings were confusing, uncontrollable, and you had spent most of your life pretending you didn’t have them. But with Spencer, that became harder.

He protected you. Maybe a little too much. He cared for you, but sometimes it felt like he was putting you in a bubble—telling you what you should do, how you should feel, and you found yourself obeying without questioning it. After all, he knew better, didn’t he? He was the one who had experienced life, who understood how things worked. You trusted him.

But tonight, something inside you snapped. You wanted to do something on your own that Spencer deemed unsafe, and instead of discussing it, he simply said, “No,” with that firm, protective gaze.

“Why not?” you asked, frustration bubbling over.

“It’s not safe,” he replied, arms crossed, his gaze resolute.

“I can decide that for myself!” you shot back, anger rising.

Spencer’s instinct to protect you kicked in, but you felt empowered as your voice grew louder.

“You treat me like I’m broken!” you exclaimed. “I’m not a child! I can make my own choices!”

“I’m trying to keep you from getting hurt,” he countered, frustration evident in his voice.

“I’m not helpless!” you shouted, your heart racing with an unfamiliar intensity. In that moment, you realized the truth: you were angry—and it felt liberating. Spencer stared at you, stunned.

“I’m angry,” you admitted, recognizing this new emotion for the first time.

You shook your head, still trembling with adrenaline, but a sense of happiness crept in. After years of feeling numb, you were finally experiencing the raw intensity of emotion, and it felt good.