'Urban Dictionary' defines a death stare as, to look fixedly at someone with so much hate in hopes that their face melts, explodes, or caves in with extreme discomfort and pain. But if 'Urban Dictionary' wanted something more visual, a perfect example would be the stare that locked together a hot headed blonde, and a rather pissed off dark brunette.

"Won't you tell me pretty lies

look me in my face

Tell me that you love me even though it's fucking fake

I don't fucking care at all

And you've been out all night

I don't know where you've been

You're probably getting fucked, you're probably giving head

And I don't fucking care at all"

The stare deepened, he could practically feel her suck in her breath as she always did when she got pissed off. Even if he was quite a few feet away from her. The amount of pure hate they had for each other was overflowing at this point. Nothing was stopping them from going at each other once more.

50 hours earlier

"Will you just fucking calm down and listen to me for one minute!"

"No. No I will not. I can't believe you would do this to me!"

He didn't even know what to say, to do, his muscles tensed and it's like his whole mind went numb. No one teaches you how to deal with these situations in school.

You see, a particular raven-haired male had decided to come home from touring with his band a couple days early. They had a gig planned in his hometown, but after that he would be on the road again. So he took the liberty of catching an early flight, just so he could get a couple days of euphoria with his girlfriend. Some time away from the boys, and the ever so annoying stress that lingered with them. Just a simple escape. That's all he wanted.

But no. Instead of a hug and a kiss at the door, instead, he was greeted to the breathy moans to something he wished he would rather not have stumbled in on. As he swung the door open, there were these few moments where he was just standing there, staring. Like his eyes couldn't believe the sight in front of him, and he needed those extra seconds to reassure his mind that a) no he wasn't insane, and b) he was about to be. A harsh gulp ran down his drying throat, settling in his stomach with a queasy feeling. He had a bouquet of daisies, her favourite, in his hand. But after those few unforgettable moments had passed, they dropped from his cold fingers.

That's when her eyes snapped up at him.

That's when she breathed out a, "S-Shit…."

"Marshall please, just let me explain" she begged, just barely managing to pull herself away from whoever it was in that sweaty bed beside her, tugging on a shirt.

"Are you serious? Are you actually fucking. Serious. You expect me to listen to your sorry ass right now?" he snapped, making his way back down the stairs

"..."

"Wow you must've really changed, first sleeping with some man-whore and now you're just plain delusional!" Marshall exclaimed even louder, throwing his hands up.

"You're such an asshole…." she muttered in a response.

"Oh I'm the asshole?!" he asked, pausing in his tracks to turn back around to her "I'm the asshole. The asshole who just walked into his girlfriend cheating on him, yeah no you're right. I am such an asshole"

"Marshall please…"

"No pleases!" he interrupted, shushing her at the spot. He took a couple steps back, his eyes gazing over her with none of the love and attraction he had before. Just pain. Just back stabbing, ball kicking pain.

"No buts! No nothing. Just… please stay the absolute fuck away from me"

"I'm only a fool for you

And maybe you too good for me

I'm only a fool for you

But I don't fucking care

I don't fucking care

I don't fucking care…"

'The nerve she has… showing her face at this place, I thought I made it crystal fucking clear that I didn't want to see her around me ever again. Didn't I make that clear? I'm pretty sure I made that quite clear. So what, now she's deaf, delusional, a liar, a terrible person, a cheater a heart breaker a bitch a player a slut the person i hate the person i hate the person i hate the person i still love'

Marshall's mind ran until it froze. Completely ice cold. He could feel his bottom lip begin to quiver. His nails digging into the side of his bass. He didn't care about the song anymore, he didn't fucking care. This pain demanded to be felt.

'No.' the voice in his mind stuttered out.

'No, no, fuck her.' he quickly reassured. He had to convince himself out of numbness to keep him from breaking down in front of a crowd.

His fingers had stopped moving up and down the bass, the song paused mid sentence. Marshall earned himself a couple worried glances by his fellow band members, as they had just little to none knowledge for his abrupt stop.

"I'm only a fool for you"

He continued. He pressed on. The words escaping his lips came out dry, cracked, broken. A broken voice for a broken boy. The sudden jolt of music came to be a surprise to the rest of the group, and the crowd in front of him. Everyone seemed confused at the breach of sound, but decided it was better to ask questions later.

Marshall's fingers mindlessly slided up and down the neck of his bass, plucking the strings without any care. His voice seemed to be turning stale, like the neuron telling his voice to belt out notes had just decided to take a coffee break. It all came out in a barely wavering, monotone hum.

He couldn't quite pull his eyes away from the blonde staring him down in crowd. Her hair shone through, so it seemed like she was the only one there. As much as his mind and heart begged, his eyes couldn't tear away.

But they should've. They really should've.

Why you may ask?

Well, it felt like a millennial later of staring into her eyes, in reality it was only a verse long. But just as he felt the song picking up, he felt his heart drop. Not only did she have the balls to show up, but she took the liberty of dragging whatever it was she was screwing along with her. It draped it's stupid, lanky arm around her. He just stared straight at them, his mouth drawing coarse. They turned and left. Arm and arm, heart and heart, soul and soul.

'Good riddance' right? Marshall was really trying his best to convince himself of that. But in actual fact his arm drooped from the strings. His eyes watered up.

'Keep it together' his mind hissed at himself. But the pain was growing unbearable, impossible to disregard. It spread from his heart, reaching first the tightening feeling in his stomach, to the senselessness in his arms. Up to his brain where it flooded any real thoughts managing to pass through, and as it reached his legs, it was like getting a hammer to the back of the knee. It knocked the wind out of him and made him drop to a kneel.

He couldn't keep it together. He had given that up a while ago. But it became frighteningly clear to him as he felt the hot tears running down his face.

Hearts can break. Yes, hearts can break. Sometimes I think it would be better if we died when they did, but we don't.

Authors note:

This is just a fun little one shot I wanted to play with. If you're wondering, the song is "idfc" by Blackbear. The quote at the end is by Stephen King. Thanks for reading!