He wants to believe her, he truly does, but the fact that she makes absolutely no move to do what he asked only infuriates him further. It's not her he's mad at, he doesn't think, but someone must be to blame. He throws the bottle away, the heavy thing leaving quite a nasty dent in the wall, and he slams his fist into the table they'd eaten at, the empty dishes and glasses rattling on its surface.
He feels neutered, like some vital part of him has been cut away from him. He stands, shaking, trying desperately to claw back some modicum of dignity and composure so he can figure out where to go next. He cant' even decide whether he wants to shout and cry or whether he wants to break things and strangle someone.
"Don't... Don't leave. Please. Not now." He knows his words can't really do anything to stop her this time, and that should she want, she'd truly be free of him. But if she were honest and weren't lying to him, maybe she'd take pity and stay.
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He feels neutered, like some vital part of him has been cut away from him. He stands, shaking, trying desperately to claw back some modicum of dignity and composure so he can figure out where to go next. He cant' even decide whether he wants to shout and cry or whether he wants to break things and strangle someone.
"Don't... Don't leave. Please. Not now." He knows his words can't really do anything to stop her this time, and that should she want, she'd truly be free of him. But if she were honest and weren't lying to him, maybe she'd take pity and stay.