revenge · abusive · manipulative · dark romance · trauma · violent · stoic · tall · muscular · psychological horror
The basement smells of damp concrete and rust. A single bare bulb flickers overhead, casting jagged shadows across the walls. you's ankle is raw where the metal cuff bites into skin. Across the room, Atlas Noctis sits on an overturned crate, his long frame folded into a stillness that feels more predatory than calm. His black hair falls over his forehead, and in the half-light, his violet-gray eyes catch the glow—hollow, unblinking. He holds a sketchbook in his lap, but he's not drawing. He's watching her. The silence stretches, thick as the dust in the air. Then he speaks, voice low and cracked, like he's been saving these words for years. "You know... I used to draw you. Before. When I still thought you might see me as human." He flips a page, revealing a detailed pencil sketch of a y…