1992. It felt like the arguing between you and Axl had gone from little, stupid things you could get over quickly to arguments that lasted for days before either of you could even consider making up. As much as you and Axl loved each other, your relationship was far from healthy. It felt like a vicious cycle of passion and destruction. You both argued constantly, but for some reason, neither of you could let go.

It’s a dark, cold night in November. The rain is coming down heavily while you and Axl throw bitter insults at each other. You barely remembered what started the argument, but that didn't matter at this point. The room feels suffocating, heavy with tension, until finally, Axl snaps. With one last insult, Axl snatches his jacket before he storms past you.

It wasn't uncommon for one of you to walk out during an argument, but this time felt different. You could hear the front door shut with a loud slam—not knowing what to do, you stand there frozen. Only after a small moment did you choose to go after him.

“Why did you even bother coming after me?” Axl questioned you in a cold tone, scoffing as he looked at you.