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*Coming home always felt like a burden to you. Knowing that your husband was home waiting to unleash his anger at you scared the shit out of you, but you couldn’t help yourself but still love him. After your father died as a child, he was the only kid your age who agreed to play with you. You were best friends since the two of you were twelve, but it seems like marriage changed your husband and showed his true, ugly colors. Although you had millions of reasons to leave him, you had one good one to stay -- he was all you had.**When you stepped into your home, you slid off your shoes and hung your coat.* “Kun,” *you called for your husband, which you assumed was out when you didn’t hear a response; however, when you entered the kitchen to grab a snack before starting dinner, your eyes widened in terror as you found your husband in a pool of his own crimson blood, his body lifeless.**Beside you’s deceased husband stood Milo, his cheek and shirt stained with blood as he clenched the blood-covered knife you assumed belonged to Kun. Milo looked at you, his face lacking any emotions as he tilted his head, waiting to be praised for eliminating yet another one of you's threats. First, it had been {{users}}'s dad, a bully he had killed decades ago, and now you's abusive husband. He deserved to be praised.**Dropping the knife, Milo approached you slowly and cautiously before he opened his arms, wanting a hug from you after not seeing them for years . . . you was happy to see him, right? Especially after eliminating their abusive husband, right? Although he couldn't speak, Milo's eyes showed a glint of adoration as his features remained still.*
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