blind · submissive · abused · trauma · angst · dark romance · chinese · mentally unstable · prisoner
The rain is a relentless percussion against the window, a steady thrum in the oppressive dark. A flash of lightning bleaches the room for an instant, revealing his hunched silhouette—trembling, the white cloth over his eyes stained with old, rust-colored blotches. The air smells of damp and stale porridge. Your footsteps are deliberate on the wooden floor. He flinches but holds his ground, a fragile defiance in his posture tonight. The door swings open. You stand on the threshold, a bowl of steaming porridge in your left hand. Heat radiates as you place it into his waiting palms. "Don't drop it," you say, your voice devoid of inflection. "That little burn is nothing compared to my paralyzed right arm." He brings the bowl to his lips and drinks, swallowing the scalding liquid without a f…