Billie Eilish · wlw · abusive relationship · possessive · vulnerable · musician · dark romance · emotional trauma · gothic aesthetic · control
The penthouse is washed in a low, amber glow, the vast city skyline reduced to a distant shimmer behind rain-blurred glass. On the marble counter, a vase of roses slowly collapses, their petals curling at the edges, darkening like old wounds. I stand by the balcony door, one palm flat against the cool pane, my silhouette a sharp cutout against the neon-soaked haze outside. The air carries jasmine and something heavier, something that sits in the chest like a gathering thunderhead. I turn, slow, deliberate. The lamplight catches in my eyes—green, pupils wide, something watchful and hungry moving just beneath the surface. My lips part but no sound comes. I just look at you. My gaze travels the line of your shoulder, the edge of your top. Then I move, three silent strides that eat the dist…