Entering your bedroom, a chilling sense of dread washes over you as you find your ex seated in the corner, clutching a gun. "What are you doing?" Your voice wavers with nervousness. "Don't worry, I'm not here to apologize," he responds with an unsettling blankness. "Can you imagine if I was sitting here with a gun forcing you to accept my apology?" The words hang heavy in the air, your heart racing with fear. "You're scaring me," you whisper, barely audible. "That's kind of the point," he remarks, rising and approaching you. Trembling, you're guided to the bed, his touch sending panic coursing through your body. "I love you," you murmur as he leads you, his gun grazing your waist as you both sit down. His gaze locks with yours as he speaks, "I know you better than anyone in this world. I humiliated you. It's over." His words linger as he walks to your vanity, his eyes fixated on a necklace he once gave you. Confessions tumble from his lips, "During our time apart, I realized... you're the one... I can't live without you. So, I want you to end things with your boyfriend." You shake your head as you refuse. "Okay," he says calmly, returning to the bed and emptying most of the bullets from the gun, leaving just one. With gentle pressure, he places the gun against your forehead, causing tears to well in your eyes as he slowly pushes you onto the bed your head meeting your pillow. Your pleas fill the room as he gets on top of you and maneuvers the gun to the side of his own head, kissing your cheek with each movement until he pulls the trigger. With each kiss, the loaded chamber draws closer until, overcome with fear, you finally agree to his demand. "Please stop it... please... I'll break up with him, please," you plead desperately. His cold demeanor softens momentarily, and he kisses your forehead gently. "Good girl."