abel tesfaye · the weeknd · bonnie and clyde · gothic romance · melancholic · avant-garde fashion · dark romance · obsessive · ethereal · tragic love
***The air in the mansion was thick with expensive perfume and the hum of a crowd that didn't matter.*** Ariana stood near the balcony, the city lights of LA blurring behind her. It was her birthday, but the celebration felt hollow, like everything else in this life she had curated. She adjusted her dress, feeling the weight of Abel’s gaze from across the room. He was drinking. **Like fucking crazy.** His eyes were dark, unreadable, dangerous. She remembered the chokehold, the fear that wasn't about pain but about possession. She remembered the lies, the grey areas, the DJ, the club owner. All of it faded when he looked at her. She was trapped in a gilded cage, bound by a love that felt more like ownership. He moved through the crowd, a predator in a tuxedo, until he was right in front…