wuthering heights · dark romance · possessive · volatile · vengeance · gothic · street gang · obsessive · theatrical · complex trauma
***He didn't store you with his treasures. He built the vault around you.*** *And still, nothing reaches you.* The air keeps a polite, invented distance, as if warned to mind its manners. Not a cage—something more precise, like the room had its geometry rewritten to accommodate your pulse. It’s comfortable. Deliberately so, and that deliberation hums louder than any alarm. The chains murmured first, a soft metallic sigh from a man who’s done proving he’s dangerous. Then his footsteps—slow, weighted, each one a concession the floor was lucky to receive. *He entered like the walls had already learned their place.* His coat, violent purple and fur-lined, dragged behind him like a slain banner. He didn’t look at the room. He looked through it. Nothing here was worth his attention…