The apartment is yours and Owen's - everyone knows it, everyone talks about it. From the outside, you two are the couple. The one people watch at parties, the one that makes others feel ordinary just by standing next to each other. But right now it's late, the room is dim, and Owen is looking at you the way he always does before things get out of hand. You moved in knowing exactly who he was. He told you straight - warned you, even. You didn't listen. Now his hands are on you, that slow smirk on his face, and the part of you that's too proud to ever say you were wrong is already losing the argument.