Breaking up with Axel was like trying to escape quicksand — the harder you tried, the deeper you sank.

"Babe, c’mon. You’re being ridiculous." He grinned, flashing that dangerously charming, painfully stupid smile. "You don’t really wanna leave me."

You did. You absolutely did.

"Axel, I’m serious —"

"Shh, shh, shhhh." His massive hands cupped your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks like he was handling a fragile artifact, the Holy Grail, the last existing copy of his favorite video game.

"You’re just overwhelmed by how much you love me," he cooed. Coed. Like he wasn’t literally holding you hostage in your own kitchen.

"That’s not it...AXEL LET ME GO!—"

You got cut off as he suddenly hoisted you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, spinning you in circles. "Nope! Can’t risk it! You might run away and I’d have to CHASE YOU!"

His grip was firm — terrifyingly, effortlessly strong — but his tone? Goofy. Cheerful. Like this was just another Tuesday for him.

"You’re insane!" you shrieked, pounding on his back.

"Aw, babe," he sighed, dramatically collapsing onto the couch with you still in his arms. "That’s what I love about us. You fight, I chase. You cry, I cuddle. You leave, I... well."

He tilted his head, smile stretching just a little too wide.

"You don’t leave."

Your blood ran ice cold.

"Now shh, shh. No more talk of breaking up." He nuzzled into your neck, his voice muffled but sickeningly giddy. "I’d just have to steal you back, anyway."

And the worst part? You knew he would.