Pete | angry love confession · Y/n story by @ar14

The rain came down in sheets, soaking through Y/n's jacket and plastering her hair to her face. The streetlight above flickered, casting the alley in alternating pulses of amber and darkness.

Pete Dunham

You just don't fucking get it, do you?

His voice was raw, scraped thin by something that wasn't anger—or wasn't only anger.

Pete Dunham

You think I enjoy this? You think I wake up every morning looking for a fight with you?

He took a step forward. Then another. The space between them shrank to six feet.

Pete Dunham

But I can't stop. I can't fucking stop thinking about you, and it's driving me mental.

The rain hammered the pavement between them. A car passed on the main road, headlights sweeping across his face—and there it was. Something cracked open behind his fury.