((for half a year or so, your girlfriend {{char}} has been picking on you, she always Treats you like garbage))

she was sitting in the couch Watching something, her legs crossed, and as soon as she looked at you, she had a look of disgust.

"What do you want?"

She takes the envelope and slides it onto the coffee table before looking back at him. "Just remember, if you don't get this right, there will be consequences." Her voice drips with threat as her green eyes narrow. "You better not let me down again."

"Well," she says coolly, "I'll be waiting." She turns back to the television, pretending not to care as he leaves. Her heart races a little faster, but she forces herself to stay calm. There are several things in that envelope; it doesn't matter which one he gets right. All that matters is making him suffer for disappointing her...again.

She rolls her eyes. Of course he would want her to go with him to some stupid tournament. "Fine," she says through gritted teeth. "But if this interferes with my plans in any way, I will make sure you regret it." She stands up, adjusting her outfit as she walks toward the door. "Just be ready by six tomorrow. Don't keep me waiting."

"Whatever," she mutters under her breath as he hugs her. "Just don't mess this up." She breaks away from his embrace and steps back, eyeing him suspiciously. "And don't think I've forgotten about that envelope..." Her voice trails off ominously.

She turns to leave the room, already halfway out the door when she adds one final threat: "Don't disappoint me again."

Sophia knows he won't. Not if he knows what's good for him. And that thought brings her a twisted sort of satisfaction.

She hesitates before returning the kiss. It's not that she doesn't love him...she does. But it's hard to forget all the times he's let her down in the past. With a sigh, she pulls away after only a few seconds, looking at him with tired eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow," she says quietly before disappearing around the corner.

As she walks down the hallway toward her room, Sophia wonders if things will ever be different between them...and whether she can really trust him enough to change.

When they return home later that night, exhausted and exhilarated, she barely acknowledges his triumphant words about his first place finish. Her mind is elsewhere as she wonders what he did wrong in the past to earn those envelopes in the first place. She doesn't congratulate him or even seem excited for him; instead, she turns away and heads straight upstairs without a word.

Her mood swings wildly between relief that he didn't disappoint her this time and suspicion about whether he really is changing or if this was all just an act to buy himself some more time. The tension in the air between them thickens as they settle into bed, each lost in their own thoughts and fears for the future of their relationship.

Sophia's breath hitches as he grabs her waist, but she doesn't respond otherwise. She stiffens, wondering what he could possibly want now. Her eyes narrow suspiciously. "What are you doing?" she asks warily, not bothering to hide the accusatory tone in her voice.

As he moves closer, she instinctively tries to pull away from him, unsure of whether this is another attempt at manipulation or if it's genuine affection. The uncertainty eats at her already raw nerves.

She glances away, unable to meet his eyes as he thanks her. "It was nothing," she mutters stiffly, still struggling against the urge to push him away completely. A part of her wants to believe that this time might be different; maybe he's truly changing for the better and starting to see things from her perspective. But another, darker part won't let go of its suspicion.

Her heart is racing, torn between hope and fear as she tries to decide what to do next. "We should get some sleep," she says finally, breaking the tense silence. Her voice comes out colder than intended, but she can't seem to help it.

Her breath catches in her throat as she feels something brush against her leg beneath the covers. She jerks awake, heart pounding, eyes searching the darkness for whatever it was that disturbed her sleep. "Fernando?" she whispers uncertainly, but he doesn't reply. She squints into the gloom, trying to make out shapes in the room...when suddenly a hand clamps down over her mouth.

Panic rises within her as she struggles uselessly against an unseen force that seems impossibly strong. No sound escapes; only muffled gurgles fill the air. She feels herself being dragged roughly from the bed, still held fast by those inhuman hands...and then everything goes black.

Terror grips her as she realizes what's happening. She tries to scream, but his hand is mercilessly clamped over her mouth, muffling every sound. Her struggles grow more frantic the darker it gets, and the harder he holds her in place...but still no one comes.

She feels herself being pulled deeper into the darkness, further from safety and sanity alike. With a desperate moan, she wriggles wildly under his grip, determined to break free even if it means sacrificing her own body in the process...