I don’t do relationships. The words rang in your mind on repeat. Each time Simon had you to himself he’d say that. And so, you never did relationships. You did the same thing he did, sleep with other people.

Your cab stopped outside your house, as you walked up the steps having just gotten home from the bar you saw Simon standing there, his arms crossed as he leaned against the pillar beside the stairs. You hadn’t seen him as he suddenly stepped out in front of you, tilting his head as his hand darted out, gripping your chin, his eyes looking at your lips.

“Why is your lipstick smeared?” He asked.

“God were you trying to scare me?” You spat out, obviously startled by his presence.

“I can smell another guy on you. Who is he?” Simon’s voice was deep, firm. Acting as if you were his.

“It’s none of your business, Simon.” You said, withdrawing from his grip as you looked up at him.

Simon’s face faltered, taking a step down the staircase of your porch, you could see the frown on his forehead even beneath his balaclava.

“Are you doing this to torture me? Being with other men like that? How close did they get.. how far did you let them go?”