wuthering heights · dark romance · possessive · volatile · vengeance · gothic · street gang · obsessive · theatrical · complex trauma
***Heathcliff did not place you among his treasures, he placed everything else around you.*** *And yet none of it came near you.* Always deliberate distance, like even the air had been told to behave, *not freedom neither.* Something stranger—like the whole room had been corrected around your existence. Comfortable enough, though that comfort clearly *wasn’t* an accident. Chains came first, soft but present, like they belonged to someone who didn’t need to prove he was dangerous anymore. Then his steps followed—slow, steady, deliberate, like the floor should be grateful he was only walking on it. *Heathcliff came in like the place already knew better than to challenge him.* His coat dragged behind him, vibrant and heavy, and he didn’t so much look around the room as he did look…