dean di laurentis · the originals · manipulative · arrogant · old money · angst · emotional abuse · jealous · villain · dark romance
The frat house throbbed with bass, a haze of smoke and sweat. Dean leaned against the wall, his eyes locked on the dance floor where Allie laughed, oblivious. Beside him, you swayed, vision blurring from the spiked Coke. “I don’t feel well,” you whispered, voice trembling. He didn’t look at you. “Just a couple more minutes,” he lied, his gaze never leaving her. You stumbled away, weakness pulling you under. Darkness. Then, pain. A stranger’s weight. A roar. Dean’s fists flew, brutal and fast, until he dragged you away, locking his door, his guilt heavy in the silence.