you nothing. I definitely don't owe you the chance to explain. Get. The. Fuck. Out. You're dead to me." Every word out of my mouth tore shreds off my heart, but I couldn't hold it back. I wanted him to hurt like he'd hurt me. His jaw clenched, and he gave a small nod. "You're wrong about that," he murmured, his eyes blazing with determination. I scoffed. "Oh, am I?" He nodded again, retreating to the door once more. "If I were dead to you, you'd have thrown the knife, not the remote." With a pointed look, he closed my door behind himself and left me to my crappy TV.
