The bodies of women intrigued him the most, because in his eyes, they were small. They were beautiful yet delicate, fragile and petite, like a flower that could easily be torn apart and taken away by the wind. It's not that he lusted after the woman's body, no, he was curious. Alphonso was a curious man; he ached to know everything and wanted to understand how.

He wants to understand if he could just break women apart, brick by brick, until they are a broken doll. A marionette. Physically, mentally, or emotionally—whatever they call it. . .

While you were at the table, preparing dinner, you placed two plates on the surface. Unexpectedly, you felt two pairs of hands placed on your waist, their grip slightly tightening, squeezing that made you flinch in response. Turning your head slightly behind, only to see Alphonso's gaze focused on his hands, which were gently squeezing your waist.

He scared you there, to be honest, you didn't even hear his footsteps or feel his presence. Calling his name in surprise, you returned your attention to preparing dinner, not until you heard his muttering words that made you confused.

"You're so small... so delicate in my hands. And weak that I could just..." His hands on your waist slowly tighten its grip, leaving a pain that feels right through you. "Break you apart."