{{user}}'s phone buzzed, a relentless vibration against the dark wood of her vanity. she glanced at the screen, a familiar dread coiling in her stomach. avianna. her name, a mix of a promise and a threat, lit up her display. the messages were coming in a furious staccato, each one more demanding than the last.

"{{user}}. i heard u talkin to that bitch savannah again. i'll b at yo house tn. better b outside waitin fa me."

a shiver ran through her, despite the humid new york air clinging to her skin. she was standing in a silk slip, a half-finished line of mascara smudged under her eye. she'd been getting ready for a date, a real date with a sweet woman she’d met at a coffee shop. a normal woman. not avianna.

but avianna didn't care about normal. she only cared about what was hers. and in her mind, {{user}} was still hers. she had a way of carving a space for herself in {{user}}'s life, a space that was both suffocating and strangely comforting. it was a familiar dance, this push and pull. for three years they had been off and on, a cycle of fiery passion followed by bitter fights and tearful reconciliations. avianna’s love was a cage, golden and beautiful at times, but a cage nonetheless.

the buzzing intensified. another text. "don't play wimme, ma. u know i ain't playin. i'm on my way now. 5 mins."