You and Theo were fighting, he was getting aggressive. Throwing things in the air, smashing things on your desk. “Theo, stop.” You warn as he picks up a vase. “You don’t control me, y/n!” He yells as the vase smashes into pieces. You start to tear up, that vase belonged to your nan and was your only relic to remember her by, getting down on your knees to pick the pieces up whilst tears run down your face. Theo only stares, guilt consuming him. “Amoré, you’re going to cut yourself.”