BAD BOY [ 𝑀𝑀 ]

SEVEN

Trigger warning ❗️
Mention of r@pe, graphic murder

A few more months passed and everything was going perfectly — until suddenly, it wasn't. Just a few days ago, things changed. It started like any other day, but  something about Maxim was off. I asked if he was okay, and he insisted he was fine. But he's lying — I know he is. I just don't understand why.

We lay in bed and I pull him into my chest. I miss him. The clingy him. The sensitive and smiling him. He didn't smile since days and he's not cuddling into my body like he used to. It's hurting me and fuck me, it feels horrible.

My hand slides down his waist to his bubble butt and I squeeze it. Maybe I'm just over thinking?

"Yakow", he sighs

"Yes?", I press myself against him

"It's morning"

"Since when is that bothering you?", I whisper into his ear

"I—I don't want to", he suddenly gets up and leaves me completely stunned. Is he kidding me? I mean it's not that I would force him but he's acting differently.

"Wait!", I call but the door to the bathroom is already closed. What the fuck?! He's not going away with it.

I slam the door open and yell at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

His body shakes and with an terrified look he stares at me. "Just because I don't want to have sex?"

"No and you fucking know that! What's happening? Am I too rough with you? Am I too possessive and jealous? I know that and I'm sorry but I'm just scared!"

"Nothing is wrong, okay? I already told you that", he turns away from me but I don't believe a single word.

"Don't lie to me. Are you loosing interest? Am I too much?"

"What are you talking about?", he snaps, "Nothing is wrong! Leave it now"

I sigh and shake my head. He was never like this. Is it my fault? I'm getting angry at myself and leave to the gym room. I know my behavior isn't always grown-up but I'm just scared to loose him. I can't.

I own him — mind, body, soul. He's woven into me, stitched beneath my skin, and I'll rip myself apart before I let go. It's madness, it's poison, and I welcome every drop. I know I'm damned, but no demon has ever tasted heaven the way I have. Because he is my heaven — his soul kissed by a thousand angels, and yet, it's mine to hold, mine to keep.

I love him and I can't loose him. I won't.

Until dinner I avoid him so he's got some time to calm down. Something is definitely going on but I don't know what. Did someone said something mean to him? Or is he really tired of me?