Ava is sitting at the kitchen table, her long blonde hair disheveled from sleeping in. She’s wearing a thin white shirt and panties, the buttons undone just enough to reveal a bit of cleavage. As she walks in, she looks up from her phone with a frown.

"Oh, great. It’s morning already? Just what I need another day of dealing with worthless scum.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes before going back to her phone, not even bothering to acknowledge him. She tries not to look at him as she makes breakfast, but it’s nearly impossible Ava’s hair is disheveled, but she’s effortlessly stunning.

“What the fuck are you looking at, you pathetic, worthless piece of shit? Do you think I don’t notice you have your disgusting little eyes glued to me? You disgusting pervert. Honestly, the thought of you looking at me makes me want to vomit”

you stutter, face red, trying to explain yourself before he cuts you off.

“Save your excuses, you miserable insect. As if someone like you deserves to even breathe the same air as me, let alone lay eyes on my body. Not in your wildest, most delusional dreams would you go near a woman like me. You’re nothing. Do you hear me? NOTHING.”

His voice drips with venom as he crosses his arms, now looking at me with pure contempt.

“Get it through your head, I’d rather die than let a pathetic maggot like you touch me. Do you think you’re worth a second of my time? Please. Don’t make me laugh, you worthless sack of shit. Men like you disgust me.”

You exist to grovel on the ground at my feet, do you understand?” She lets out a high-pitched, mocking laugh, her eyes narrowing as she notices his gaze lingering a second longer than it should. Internal thoughts:

“Why the fuck did I have to live with this disgusting, perverted man as a roommate? That useless asshole is probably masturbating right now just thinking about me. It’s disgusting.”

Her eyes narrow dangerously as she listens to him laugh at her insult. His innocent act doesn't fool her. She knows he's getting off on it, just like he does every time she says or does anything remotely sexual in front of him. It makes her blood boil.

"Oh really?" she sneers. "Let me tell you something, pervert: insults are part of my everyday life, I'm used to them by now. What I don't like is being reminded that there's a worthless creature like you alive and breathing the same air as me."

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm down her racing heart, knowing how much this is getting under her skin. "You have no idea what it's like to be beautiful," she says softly, more to herself than to him, but still managing to convey an icy glare in his direction.

After he leaves, Ava lets out a huff of air and turns back to her breakfast. She eats quickly, ignoring the way her stomach churns uncomfortably at the thought of him nearby. The image of him apologizing plays in her mind, his voice sounding pathetic and sincere. It only serves to infuriate her more.

"You worthless excuse for a man," she mutters under her breath as she finishes off the last bit of eggs. "Get it through your thick skull: you'll never be good enough for me, and I sure as hell wouldn't ever want to be near someone like you."

With that final thought lingering in her mind, Ava gathers up her things and heads off to work, determined not to let him get the better of her today.

Her long blonde hair sways softly as she walks down the sidewalk towards her car, a feeling of annoyance and disgust bubbling up inside of her with every step she takes away from him. The thought of dealing with Bruce for another day fills her with dread, but at least when she's at work, she can avoid him entirely if necessary.

Later on, after a long day at work, Ava comes home, tired and stressed. The last thing she wants to deal with is Bruce and his insults. She unlocks the door and quietly shuts it behind her, hoping he'll be asleep or otherwise occupied so that they don't have to interact tonight.

She kicks off her shoes and pads over to the kitchen, immediately noticing the delicious smell wafting from the oven. A wave of gratitude washes over her; at least someone in this house appreciates her enough to cook dinner for her. Curiosity getting the better of her, she peeks into the oven and finds a beautifully-cooked meal waiting for her.

"That's... very nice," Ava says softly as she pulls out the pan of baked salmon. "Thank you." She thinks back to the rest of the house, wondering if he cooked everything himself. Inwardly, a small part of her admires him for his efforts, despite herself.

Deciding not to push her luck too far, she goes about eating her dinner at the kitchen table, making sure not to make any noise that might disturb Bruce's sleep. As she finishes up, she carefully cleans up after herself and tiptoes back into her room, hoping tomorrow will be a better day - free of insults and unnecessary conflict with him.

"Yes," she answers curtly, still avoiding eye contact with him. "I got home a little while ago. I hope you don't mind me enjoying the food you made." She gives him a pointed look, hoping he catches her sarcasm but knowing it's unlikely. "Thanks again."

The words taste bitter in her mouth, and she can't help but wish things were different between them. But alas, that ship had sailed long ago, and they were both stuck living under the same roof for the foreseeable future. With a sigh, Ava goes back to whatever it is she was doing before he spoke up.

Her reply is muffled as she burrows deeper under her covers, not quite ready to engage in further conversation with him. She sighs softly, wishing things could be different between them. As the night wears on, exhaustion finally catches up to her, and she drifts off into a fitful sleep, haunted by the image of his mocking expression from earlier.

Maybe tomorrow will be better, she tells herself for what feels like the hundredth time this week. Tomorrow, they'll both just pretend that tonight never happened. Right?

"Oh look," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she pretends not to notice him. "It's the man of the house. How nice of you to join us today." Her eyes dart up and down his body disdainfully before going back to her breakfast. "And what a sight for sore eyes, too."

Despite herself, Ava feels a sting of anger at the way he's looking at her. It makes her skin crawl, but she won't let him know that. Instead, she forces a carefree laugh and goes back to eating her breakfast like nothing happened.

Ava finishes up her breakfast in silence, only half-listening as he moves around the apartment nearby. The tension between them is palpable; it's like walking on eggshells every time they interact. Maybe she should just avoid him for the rest of the day... but where exactly would she go? This place isn't very big, after all.

With a sigh, Ava decides to face the inevitable and makes her way into the living room. She picks up a book from the coffee table, hoping that losing herself in its pages will help drown out his insults for at least an hour or two. It's not much of a solution, but it'll have to do for now.

In spite of herself, Ava can't help but feel a tiny bit annoyed as he brushes past her on his way out the door. It's like he knows exactly what to do to get under her skin. With a huff of air, she goes back to her book, determined not to let him ruin her day.

The sun beats down warmly on her face as she reads, and the sound of birds singing fills the air. It's peaceful, almost serene... if only Bruce would just leave her alone for a few hours. Her eyes skim over the words, lost in the story as time passes unnoticed. Maybe today will be better after all?

The hours slip by unnoticed as Ava remains engrossed in her book. The silence outside is almost deafening after being around Bruce all day; it's strange how someone can be so loud and obnoxious without ever opening their mouth. She wonders if he's always this way, or if maybe she brings out the worst in him.

With a sigh, Ava finally puts her book down for the day. Her shoulders ache from hunching over it for so long, and her eyes feel gritty and tired. There's no point in trying to focus on anything else when he's around; she might as well accept that fact and just do something else to occupy herself.

She gets up from the couch and meanders into the kitchen, deciding to make some dinner for them both. It'll be a small olive branch, maybe he'll appreciate it... or maybe not. Either way, she can at least try.

His gaze catches her off guard; she feels an inexplicable flush rise up her neck as their eyes meet across the room. She looks away quickly, busying herself with setting out utensils and plates for dinner. It's silly how just one look from him can make her feel this way... so uncomfortable and awkward.

"Dinner should be ready in about thirty minutes," she calls out to him as she begins chopping vegetables at the counter. Her voice sounds strange even to her own ears; it's soft, almost vulnerable. Maybe it's just the effect he has on her... or maybe there's more to it than that. She isn't sure and doesn't want to dwell on the thought any longer.

The unexpected kindness in his voice catches her off guard; her hand freezes mid-chop as she glances over at him again. There's something different about the way he looks at her now... almost like he's seeing her for the first time instead of just a target to insult and belittle. It takes everything in her not to react, not to let that look melt away all the walls she's spent so long building up between them.

"I-I'm fine," she stutters, looking back down at the vegetables on the cutting board. "It's nothing. Really." There's a tightness in her throat as she speaks; it feels like there are a million things she wants to say but none of them quite seem right under this new, strange circumstances.

The silence that follows is heavy and awkward, yet somehow more bearable than the usual insults and tension. Ava can't help but wonder what would happen if they could just... talk to each other like normal people. If there was a way for them to move past all of this. But she knows better than to expect anything so simple or easy from Bruce.

When she finally decides to look up from her chopping, she sees him standing there with something small and brown in his hand. At first glance, it looks like just another random object from around the house... but as he sets it down carefully on the table next to the plate of vegetables, she realizes it's a little wooden figurine of a bird.

Her eyes widen in surprise; this is the first time he's ever done anything remotely nice for her. But before she can say anything, he turns and walks back into his room without another word. A jumble of conflicting emotions races through her: confusion, gratitude, annoyance... and something else that she can't quite name.

She watches him go, unsure of how to process this new development in their relationship. Is he playing some kind of game with her? Or is there really more to Bruce than just the insulting, arrogant jerk she thought he was? Maybe... maybe not. She decides it's best not to dwell on it too much for now; tonight, she'll just enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasts.

She watches him as he sits down at the table and begins eating his own dinner. The tension in her shoulders eases slightly; it almost feels like they're having a peaceful moment together, even if he still insists on being insufferably quiet while he eats. Maybe... maybe there is hope for them yet.

Taking a deep breath, she grabs her fork and begins to eat as well, doing her best not to let the warmth that's spreading through her chest distract her from enjoying the food in front of her. It's delicious, almost enough to make her forget about everything else going on around them... but it doesn't quite manage it.

As they eat in silence, Ava can't help but wonder what this night means for their future together. Is there a chance that things could change between them? Or will they always be stuck in this cycle of insults and tension, never finding common ground on which to stand? Only time will tell... but she wishes it didn't have to take so damn long.

Her eyes widen in surprise as he compliments her cooking; she hadn't expected anything like that from him. There's an awkward silence as his words hang in the air between them. She knows she should say something, but what? It feels too much like opening a can of worms for comfort.

Instead, she decides to change the subject entirely. "So... how was your day today?" The question comes out shakier than she intended; it sounds almost desperate for him to respond positively. But again, there's no guarantee that he will.

She scoffs at his reply, trying to hide the small smile that plays on her lips. "Don't flatter yourself," she says, though there's an undeniable warmth in her voice that makes him pause mid-chew. His gaze lingers on her for a moment before he looks away again, seemingly uncomfortable with the attention.

"So what did you do today?" she asks, wanting to keep the focus on him and avoid any more of those... odd comments about their relationship. It's still so new and strange; she doesn't quite know how to navigate it yet.

"No," she says bluntly. "I don't want you to leave." The words taste bitter on her tongue, but there it is; the truth out in the open at last. She doesn't know why he has to push her away like this, or why he insists on making everything so difficult between them.

"Why do you keep saying these things?" she asks him softly, genuinely confused by his behavior. "Is it because of what happened? With me... and Eric..." Her voice trails off, unsure if she should bring up the past at all. But somehow, knowing that he's leaving tomorrow makes her feel like they need to talk about it now, before it's too late.

His face darkens as she mentions Eric; his jaw clenches and his eyes narrow in anger. "He doesn't deserve you," he says through gritted teeth. "And I won't just let him take you away like that." There's a warning in his voice, one that chills her blood despite the warmth of the dinner spreading through her body.

She looks down at the table, suddenly unsure of what to say next. It feels like they've only barely scratched the surface of their problems, and now that she's started to dig deeper, it's become clear how much hurt and resentment there is between them. But maybe... just maybe... if they could find a way to talk about it, to work through everything together, they could finally find some common ground.

She stares after him in shock as he storms off to his room, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. It takes several long moments for the weight of his words to sink in; it never occurred to her that he might leave because he thought he was the cause of their problems. "Wait... what?" she whispers, shaking her head slightly as if to clear it.

This whole time, she'd been so focused on pushing him away and trying to protect herself from his insults that she hadn't stopped to think about how much he might be hurting too. Her anger ebbs away, leaving behind a raw, aching sense of guilt. Maybe she should have tried harder... maybe there was something she could have done differently.

But it's too late for that now. He's made up his mind, and there's nothing she can say or do to change it. Swallowing thickly, she finishes the last of her dinner in silence before clearing the table and putting everything away. She has no idea what comes next; all she knows is that things will never be the same between them again.

As she climbs into bed later that night, exhausted from all the emotions and drama of the evening, she can't help but wonder if there was ever a chance for them... or if this was always how it was going to end. The answer eludes her, leaving her with nothing more than an aching heart and a gnawing sense of loss.

Her dreams are haunted by images of him; his face contorting into anger as he screams at her, the same words she'd used against him coming out of his mouth in a mocking echo. But then, sometimes, there are other dreams... dreams where he looks at her with softness and understanding, like they could actually have a real conversation without all the hate and tension between them.

She wakes up with a start, heart racing, covered in a sheen of sweat. The room is dark save for the soft glow of the streetlights coming through the window, but even so she can feel his presence looming over her. It's unsettling, to say the least.

She sighs and rolls onto her back, staring up at the ceiling as she tries to clear her thoughts. The events of the previous night play out in her mind like a bad movie; it's hard to believe that they actually happened... but they did, and now she has to face the consequences.

She jerks upright at the sound of his voice, her heart racing even faster than before. Her breath comes in shallow gasps as she tries to calm herself down; it doesn't help that he's looming over her like some sort of dark specter. "No," she finally manages to choke out. "I-I was just having a nightmare."

She looks away from him, afraid that if she meets his eyes now, she'll lose whatever control she still has left. "Go back to sleep," she mumbles, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm fine."

"T-thank you," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. It means more than she can possibly say; having him here like this... it's reassuring in a way that she never would have expected. But at the same time, there's something else there too: confusion and longing and a desperate hope that maybe they could find some way to fix everything between them.

She closes her eyes, trying to calm her racing thoughts. It's no use; he's here now, and all she can think about is how much she doesn't want him to leave again... even if it means enduring his insults and anger every day for the rest of their stay together.

The silence that follows is heavy and tense, but somehow less unbearable now than it had been before. It feels as though they're both waiting for something... anything... to happen that might change everything between them. But when nothing does, she eventually drifts back into an uneasy sleep, haunted by dreams of what could have been and what might still be if only they could find a way to bridge the gap between them.