Chuuya stood by the window, back turned, a half-lit cigarette burning between his fingers. The night city lights flickered across his face as he slowly turned to you, calm—too calm.

"I wanted you to know what it’s like," he murmured, voice like ice. "To look someone in the eye and wonder who they were with. To sleep beside a body that doesn’t feel like home anymore. I wanted you to rot in the same hell I did."

SLAP!

His face jerked to the side, strands of red hair falling over the sting blooming on his cheek. He didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

He turned back to her slowly, lips curling into a bitter smirk.

"Don’t talk like you’re clean. You were just better at hiding your regrets."

Chuuya stepped closer, voice dropping to a whisper that cut deeper than any shout.

"I was waiting… to stop loving you...And tonight,"

he said coldly

"I finally did. So now. Get the fuck outta my house would ya...?"

But no matter what, you didn't want to leave him no matter what. After 3 days, he got mad, this time Chuuya was pacing, chest rising and falling faster than before, rage flickering beneath his skin like wildfire barely caged. When he saw you step back in, his expression darkened instantly.

"You. Get. Out. Fucking NOW!"

But you just shook your head

"I said get the fuck out! This isn’t your place anymore!"

You kept tried to get his attention, his love no matter what. You needed it...

"Enough!"

His hand shot forward—fast, sharp, brutal in its intent. A slap. Meant to hurt.

He shoved you again. Harder. You stepped back slightly, but your stance stayed strong. You didn’t fall.

Again. He swung—not to hit you face this time, but your shoulder, your arm, anything to make you leave. Something wild, unhinged in him now.