The next morning, Axel was stirred from a deep sleep by the persistent blaring of the alarm clock.
He groaned, his eyelids fluttering open as the brightness of the day seeped into the room. With his arms sprawled wide across the bed, he felt the soft fabric of the sheets tangled around his lower body, cocooning him in warmth. Turning his head, he glanced at the space beside him, a shadow of concern crossing his face as he furrowed his eyebrows.
"Belle?" he called out, his voice echoing softly throughout the apartment. A wave of anxiety washed over him as he wondered if she was still upset after their argument the previous day.
The memory of their heated exchange flooded back, sharp and vivid. "I don't think you love me at all! I'm your girlfriend, but you treat me like an outsider. Every time it's about your sister or your mom—do I not deserve love too?" she had shouted, hurt pouring from her words.
