No, [ A whimper-moan, twitching away from his boyfriend's touch, the voice of someone who's either been crying for too long or has held back tears so much it hurts. Dom looks deformed, too-sharp teeth sticking from the corners of his lips, dark irises covering his sclera. He's so sure Theo is going to start yelling at him, just like everybody else, start breaking whatever's left in this room, say things he doesn't mean but knows exactly how much they hurt. Wrath is never just about the anger — there has to be retribution in it, too. ] You're going to get mad. You're gonna yell at me, hurt me, and I—I'm going to hurt you too.
no subject