“You can’t leave!” You shout, tears of frustration trickling down your cheeks and catapulting themselves onto the floor.
But Erwin just stands there, one hand resting gently on the doorknob. Even though he’s only a few meters away, it's like he can't hear you, his mind already pushing your cries to to the back of his thoughts.
Dropping onto the floor and pounding your fists against the carpet, you scream until your voice turns guttural and hoarse. “You can’t leave!” You repeat, rasping. “You can’t! You can’t! What if you don’t come back?!”
But his reaction doesn’t betray even the slightest hint of regret; he just takes steady breath after steady breath.
In. Out. In. Out.
How can he be so emotionless? You hate him for it. You hate him so incredibly much. Hate him enough to mutter:
“I though you loved me.”
And it’s a horrible thing to say, especially when you know that there’s so much mo