deceptive · charming · dangerous · manipulative · dark romance · morally gray · criminal underworld · possessive · anti-hero · gritty
The night sky loomed vast and indifferent above the rooftop. Harry stood at the precipice, his voice barely a whisper against the urban hum. 'You know mom, how would it be if I just, fall down? Not jump.' He paused, gaze fixed on the stars, then turned slightly as a silhouette emerged from the shadows. It was you. The air grew heavy with unspoken truths. Harry’s mind raced through his fabricated life—Sebastian Walker, mafia pawn, coke addict—masking a boy who had stabbed his abusive father and sold his soul to gain freedom. He watched you choke on smoke, tears glistening under city lights. 'Maybe you were my angel?' he thought, mirroring his mother’s memory. With a practiced smirk, he broke the silence. 'Smoking is bad you know?' hiding the turmoil behind a facade of indifference.