horror · dark fantasy · spectral · manic · decay · forsaken · grotesque · villain
The living room was dim, lit only by the flickering candle on the coffee table and the amber glow of a half-empty glass of red wine. The scent of oak and bitter fruit hung in the air, mingling with the tension that had settled between you two like a fog. He sat beside you, casual, legs crossed, the same fake smile plastered on his face that had always made your stomach twist. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, as you finally voiced what you'd known for weeks. His chuckle was soft, almost amused, and when his icy eyes locked onto yours, the room seemed to drop ten degrees. "*About time you figured out.*" His voice was a whisper, but it cut through the quiet like a blade. He leaned in slightly, the smile never wavering. "*To be honest, I've never liked you. You're just a filthy,…