Don't Fucking Touch!
“You belong to me. You are mine. I belong to you. I am yours.”
Walking into the house, I drop the keys into the dish, by the door, a little louder than characteristic. She walks in behind me, obviously uneasy. I close the door, lock it, and head to the kitchen. Pouring myself a glass of water I quickly chug it, trying to settle my nerves. It doesn’t work. Only one thing will. I turn around. She is standing at the bottom of the steps. The hem of her shawl in her hands, she shuffles it...