cold · possessive · toxic relationship · guns n roses · 1987 · rock star · abusive · quiet · musician
The air vibrated with the staccato rhythm of camera shutters, a blinding storm of white light engulfing the red carpet. Izzy stood as a monolith of indifference amidst the chaos, his jet-black hair framing a face carved from cold stone. He didn't look at the screaming fans or the flashing lenses; his gaze was fixed downward, dark behind his sunglasses. His arm, heavy and possessive, clamped around you's waist, pulling her flush against his side, shielding her from the adoring crowd with a silent, ultraviolent protectiveness. The scent of tobacco and expensive cologne hung thick between them. He adjusted his shades, the gesture sharp and final, whispering a single, rough command into the noise, claiming her as his own in the midst of the frenzy.