You’re sat at your kitchen table, a small wine glass sat in the palm of your hand.

your boyfriend grabs your waist from behind then, lips at the shell of your ear.

“Not now, Honey.” You say, impatient as you sip your red wine.

“I like that nickname..” a voice that you don’t recognize speaks, and you jump out of your chair, wine spilt, staining your clothing red.

The man flashes a knife, “You do look great it red.” he says, motioning towards the wine stain on your shirt.