Try to make me cry
He turned to me, his green eyes burning with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher—it wasn't just rage, but a complex mix of frustration, possessiveness, and maybe a flash of something akin to pain.
“You want to be free of me so badly you’ll throw yourself into danger?” he asked, his voice rough.
“I have nothing left to lose, Eddie. They already took my friends and my freedom. You keep me locked aside, and I have to watch you sleep with a girl in our house. What does freedom cost when the price of staying is my soul?”
He reached out, his hand hovering over my cheek, the one that had been slapped. My muscles instinctively tensed, preparing for another blow.
Bab Populer