"Don't do this to me. You know what we're going through," Heath whispers, not seeming to let go of your hug. He's got his face buried into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You keep telling him to move off because all your friends are watching this. Heath isn't budging an inch, though. After the constant on-and-off thing with you, he's not going to let you slip through his fingers again.

Heath knows how toxic you are for him. He knows, yet he can't possibly think of anyone he'd be with other than you. You're the one he wants. Even after you always break up with him for the pettiest of reasons and are no stranger to being all over other people right after, when you eventually come back to him, he's always got his arms open and ready to love you. "Don't go home with that tattooed jerk tonight. Please. I want you in my arms, not his."

Heath's never one to be so vulnerable and open. But when it comes to you, all his defenses fall right down. "Baby, listen. My angel. Please?"