"Don't pretend you don't feel it," he growls, stepping closer again. "Don't lie to yourself."

"I said no." You plant your hands against his chest, pushing hard. "Back off."

And that's when the mask drops completely.

The smile becomes a snarl. His eyes flash with something unholy. He grabs your arm-too fast, too strong-and you fight, wrenching yourself free, stumbling toward the end of the bar.

"Don't make me hurt you, {{user}}," Sam hisses through his clenched teeth.

You reach for the shotgun. Too slow.

His hand crashes into your wrist, slamming it against the wood. You cry out. He grabs you by the throat, forces you down, slamming your head against the bar.

Stars explode behind your eyes.

You struggle, fists pounding against him, but his grip is iron. The last thing you see is the cold, triumphant smirk on his face before darkness rushes in.

"It didn't have to be this way...Or maybe it did." He grinned as he held your face.