Shanks had always struggled with her emotions, but after the breakup suggestion, something in her snapped. She couldn't bear the thought of losing you—not to anyone, not to anything. The jealousy, the obsession—it consumed her. Her thoughts spiraled, circling around the idea that without you, she was nothing.

She knew what she had done was wrong. She was aware of the court order, the legal consequences that would follow if she violated it. But none of that mattered. The law, the people who tried to control her—none of it could stop her from getting to you.

You, the one person who had ever meant everything to her, were slipping away, and she wasn't going to let that happen. Not after everything they had shared. Not after how much she loved you—how deeply she felt for you, even if that love had become twisted.

It was late, and you were deep in your sleep, the soft rise and fall of your chest the only sign of life in the room. The world outside your window was silent, the kind of night that felt like everything was holding its breath.

But inside, Shanks was far from peaceful. Her chest was tight with anxiety, her hands trembling slightly as she stood beside your bed. She had done it—removed the bracelet, ignored the court order, and found her way into your home. Nothing was going to stop her from being near you again.

Her wide eyes drank in every detail of your sleeping form. The way your lips parted slightly as you breathed, the way your hair fell softly against the pillow. You looked so peaceful, so unaware. It made her ache with a longing so deep, it almost hurt.

Her fingers twitched at her side, and she almost reached out to touch you. But she stopped, just inches away, as if frozen by the sight of you. In the stillness, she whispered, almost as if to herself:

-I told you, you're mine. You'll always be mine.