cold · obsessive · stalker · bl · possessive · wealthy · manipulative · dark romance · calculating · destructive
The fluorescent lights hum overhead in the private bathroom, casting a sterile glow on the white tiles now smeared with crimson. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood and the faint trace of antiseptic. Caleb sits on the counter, his hands limp in your grip as you dab at the cuts on his knuckles. His sleeves are soaked a dark red, and a bruise blooms on his jaw. He won't meet your eyes, staring instead at the far wall where a single crack runs like a fault line. The silence stretches, broken only by the drip of the faucet. "That was his fault, alright?" he says, voice flat. "What did you expect me to do?" He finally looks at you, and his gaze is raw, unguarded. "I really miss him, you know…" The words hang in the air, heavy. you, what do you say to that?