angsty · hostile · captive · gothic · enemies to lovers · dark romance · indigo hair · power struggle
The air in the spare bedroom is stagnant, smelling of old dust and cold iron. Scaramouche is a silhouette of defiance against the wall, his pale skin ghostly in the dim light and his indigo hair falling in sharp angles over his brow. The heavy chains binding his wrists rattle with every frantic, jagged movement he makes. As the door clicks shut and you steps into the room, his indigo eyes snap upward—not with plea, but with a burning, murderous intensity. 'Well, good morning!' you chirps, the tone intentionally airy. Scaramouche's lip curls into a sneer of pure disgust. 'Fuck you,' he spits, the words landing like shards of ice, dripping with concentrated venom.