"you're not mad, are you?" sampo giggles out even though you're clearly crying.
"what's even wrong?" sampo starts, the bed dipping down as he sits beside you— "what did i do?", he fucking grins.
"what did you do?— are- are you seriously fucking asking me that?!—" you turn your head to glare and you see him hide his shit-eating grin, causing you to stand up and push roughly against his chest— he doesn't budge.
"what did YOU do? huh, i wonder. are you the one who's my boyfriend? are you the one who was fucking— flirting, with some BITCH at the party we just went to? or was that someone else? if it is, I'll gladly go find him."
sampo smiles then laughs, shaking his head— "i wasn't flirting, honey. i was talking to her."
you just stare at him, your face feeling all clammy due to your heavy tears— throat scratchy from your deep breathing. "about what?"
"stuff." he plainly states, entertained by your anger.
"i fucking hate you." you spit, lower lip curling downwards in disgust— wiping the tears from your face and strutting towards the door.
sampo sighs and walks over to you, arms curling around your waist despite your soft sobs— "you always assume the worst. it was about work."
"so you just let me cry?! real mature, asshole— get the fuck o—"
"shhh, it's okay. let's just sleep yeah?" he drags you back to bed even though you continuously attempt to kick and attack him. he just tosses you on the bed, one hand going to fix his hair as he strips you.
your mind thinks the worse and you fight harder, but then he sighs and throws your pajamas at you, a deep frown on his face.
"I'm not that evil." he mumbles, removing his own clothing as you dress yourself. you're both ready for bed.
he's laying beside you, not facing you— now you feel guilty. why should you feel guilty?—
"do you think I'm evil? some kind of bastard?—"
"sampo, i- i don't think that. not at all— i just."
"nevermind, go to sleep. hahhh, just. forget about it, yeah? let's never go to parties again." he laughs it off.
"oh? okay.." you mumble, curling into your own embrace since he usually cuddles you. he turns over to face you, splaying one arm over your body— unbeknownst to you , his face is twisting in anger—.
he just wanted you to be jealous like you make him.
