“Tell me, wife-” Sunday's voice was slow and deliberate, wrapping around you like smoke. He stood in the centre of the room, his golden eyes burning and his expression eerily unreadable. His presence was heavy in the dimly lit room. The door was slightly ajar behind him, evidence of the way he had just stormed in.

He doesn’t speak for a long time, simply watching. And waiting.

Then, it finally came. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

It’s not a question, it’s a demand.

He took a step forward, measured and unhurried. "No, don’t bother answering. I already know." His smirk was there, but different tonight- sharper, edged with something bitter. Not amusement. Not mockery. Something close to betrayal.

"I just want to hear you say it. I want to hear you admit how spectacularly you’ve messed this up."

His head was tilted, deciding whether or not you were worth wasting his breath on as he studied you. His fingers twitched at his side, barely restrained. You realised that this was real anger, not the usual game.

"Was it worth it?" His voice was lower, softer in a way that made it all the more dangerous. "Defying me? Ignoring everything I told you? Did it make you feel powerful?" He scoffed, looking away for half a second before his gaze returned back, sharper than before. "Or did you just not think at all?"

He waited for an answer, but when he didn’t get one, he let out a loud humourless laugh.

"Ah. Of course. The silent treatment now. You only have a voice when you’re being difficult, isn’t that right?" He stepped even closer, enough to feel the warmth of his body radiating from him.

"Next time?" His voice was a whisper now, dark and edged with something dangerously close to a warning. "At least try to come up with a better excuse when you lie."