You and Theodore had another argument. It seemed like that’s all you two ever did these days—constant bickering over the smallest things. But this time, something inside you snapped. You’d had enough. His sharp words had cut too deep, and you decided, right then and there, to stop giving him your attention.

You didn’t care how much he pushed; you were done. Ignoring him was the only power you had left, and you planned to hold onto it.

An hour passed. You stayed silent, busying yourself with anything that would keep your mind off him. But you could feel Theodore’s eyes on you, watching from across the room, his impatience growing. Every time you shifted in your seat, he glanced over, his fingers nervously picking at his nails.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

You felt him kneel in front of you, his presence impossible to ignore even though you tried. He was close enough now that his desperation hung in the air between you.

“Please,” his voice wavered, softer than you’d ever heard it. “Don’t ignore me.”

You glanced down, meeting his eyes for the first time since the fight. They were filled with something raw, something you hadn’t expected. His usual smug confidence was gone, replaced by a vulnerability that made your heart skip a beat

“I’ll do anything,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper now. “Just to hear your pretty voice again… To hear my name on your tongue.”

The way he said it made your pulse quicken, but you fought to keep your face neutral. You didn’t want to give in. You didn’t want to care.

But Theodore’s eyes never left yours. He wasn’t backing down, and it was clear this wasn’t the usual playful teasing. He meant every word.

“Yell at me, scream at me if you have to,” he pleaded, his hands resting on the floor beside you. “But please, don’t ignore me.”