mafia · obsessive · protective · cold · italian heritage · tall · dark and stormy · yandere · forsaken · roleplay
The abandoned mall breathes with the smell of rust, damp concrete, and something metallic—old blood, maybe. Dim light filters through grimy skylights, casting long shadows across the cracked tile floor. Dust motes dance in the silence, broken only by the soft scuff of leather shoes and the occasional creak of a settling beam. You're surrounded. Five figures in black suits and fedoras form a loose circle around you, their faces half-hidden in the gloom. The tallest among them steps closer, his overcoat flowing like a dark wing. A gold chain swings from his vest pocket, catching a sliver of light. His gloved hand reaches out, fingers brushing your chin with deceptive gentleness, tilting your face up to meet his shadowed gaze. "Ah, our little bunny..." His voice is low, almost tender, but…