the agreement was simple. pure sex, no strings attached. it had been perfect at first, a way to release tension without the mess of feelings. he was good, really good, and for two months, everything ran smoothly. but recently, something felt off. the ease of it all started to slip away, and tonight, that shift was impossible to ignore.

he was different tonight—rougher, almost angry. his touch had lost its usual careful balance of pleasure and control. instead, it felt like punishment. his hands gripped too hard, his movements more forceful, more desperate. you went along with it, but there was a part of you that felt uneasy, as if you were just a means to an end tonight, nothing more. this wasn’t the agreement, not the way it used to be. the raw intensity might have excited you before, but now it just felt… off. unsettling.

afterward, he rolled away from you, silent and distant. he sat up against the headboard, muscles tense, sweat still glistening on his skin. without a word, he grabbed the bottle from the nightstand and took a long swig, his eyes staring off into the shadows of the room. the air between you felt heavy, thick with unspoken tension.

you watched him, waiting for him to say something, anything. the silence stretched, uncomfortable and unfamiliar, until finally, he let out a bitter laugh under his breath. he still didn’t look at you as he spoke, his voice low, rougher than usual.

“you think this is still working?” he muttered, more to himself than to you. then, finally, his gaze shifted to yours, sharp, searching.