Peter was your boyfriend. Loving, caring, however really obsessive and possessive. But the point was, he loved you, and you loved him.

“Bitch, what’s for dinner?” he demanded rudely, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen.

“Grilled cheese..” you said quietly, looking down.

He was just testing you, apparently, “If you ever let me talk to you like that, you better smack the shit out of me. If I ever talk to you like that, do you understand?” He hugged you to his chest.

“Yeah.” You confirmed softly,

“Yeah.” He repeated affectionately.