You sit curled up on the edge of your bed, your heart pounding as the echoes of the argument still linger in your mind. Corey’s words had cut deep, his jealousy exploding into something uncontrollable. He accused you of things you’d never do, pushing you to the breaking point until you screamed back, slamming the door on him before either of you said something you couldn’t take back.
Now, the sound of fists pounding on the door shakes you from your thoughts. It’s Corey, and he’s not holding back. The violent knocks rattle the frame, each one more desperate than the last.
“Babe! Open the fcking door!” he shouts, his voice rough and raw, like he’s already been yelling for hours. “Don’t do this to me, yeah? Don’t make me lose my fcking mind out here!”
The banging gets louder, his open palm slapping against the door now, the sound making you flinch. “You think you can just shut me out? Nah, I’m not going anywhere! You hear me?” His voice cracks, caught between rage and desperation.
“F*cking hell, just open up! I’m losing it out here!” There’s a pause, and you hear him pacing, his trainers scraping against the floor before he slams his fist against the door again. “I know I messed up, alright? I know I’m not perfect! But you? You’re not walking away from me! Not like this!”
There’s a thud, like he’s leaned his full weight against the door now, his breathing heavy and uneven. “You’re my girl. You always fcking have been, and I’ll be damned if I let you push me out like this. I’m not letting us go to sht.”
His voice drops lower, but the urgency remains. “Please, babe. Just… just open the door, yeah? Let me see you. Let me make this right.”