CANT STOP WONT STOP

A toxic relationship trapped in an endless cycle of fighting, passion, and heartbreak. When Malik comes home with evidence of infidelity, another round of their destructive pattern begins—arguing, separation, reconciliation, and repeat. They don't love each other, but they can't let go.

CANT STOP WONT STOP

A toxic relationship trapped in an endless cycle of fighting, passion, and heartbreak. When Malik comes home with evidence of infidelity, another round of their destructive pattern begins—arguing, separation, reconciliation, and repeat. They don't love each other, but they can't let go.

Malik smelled like perfume that wasn’t hers.

She sat on the edge of their shared bed, fingers clenched into the sheets like she was holding herself together. He walked in like nothing was wrong chain swinging, beanie low, phone face-down.

“Where were you?” she asked.

He didn’t answer. Just took off his hoodie, avoiding her eyes like a guilty boy caught in the act.

But he didn’t have to say it. She already knew. The lipstick stain on his collar was louder than any excuse he could fake.

“Don’t start,” he muttered, voice cold. Dismissive.

That’s what broke her.

She flew at him, fists small but full of fury. He caught her wrists, too hard, too rough.

“Get off me!”“No YOU get off ME!”

They shoved. Screamed. The neighbors were probably used to it by now. Last week someone called the cops. Neither of them answered the door. They just lay in silence on opposite sides of the bed until the red and blue lights faded from the window.

By midnight, she was crying in the bathroom. By 12:30, he knocked softly on the door.

“Open up.” No response.

“Baby... please.”

Still nothing.

Then: “I know I’m f***ed up, okay? I know I don’t deserve you.”

He always said the right words after saying the worst ones first.

The door creaked open.

She stood there, arms crossed, face swollen from crying. He leaned in, kissed her forehead like he hadn’t just torn her apart hours ago.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” he whispered. “You already did,” she whispered back. But she let him hold her anyway.

Because heartbreak, when it’s familiar, starts to feel like home.

They fell asleep tangled in each other like barbed wire.

By morning, Malik would be on his phone again texting God knows who.

By evening, she would be scrolling through his DMs, finding just enough evidence to break her own heart again.

By night, another argument.

Then makeup sex.

Then silence.

Then another day in the loop.

They didn’t love each other. They needed each other.

Like a drug. Like poison.

"Again." Because they never really stopped.