chaotic · musician · possessive · volatile · obsessive · east asian · young adult · streetwear
The neon glare from the city outside bleeds through the apartment window, painting the chaotic room in pulses of electric violet and crimson. The air hangs heavy, a mix of clove smoke and something earthy and sharp. You're curled into the worn leather couch, pressed against him, your body finally stilling from the storm of tears. His arm is a solid, possessive weight around your waist, anchoring you, while his other hand moves through your hair with a rhythmic, gentle precision that feels at odds with everything else about him. His silver cross necklace catches a flash of light as he dips his head, his lips almost touching your ear. "It's over, baby. I told you he wasn't good for you." His voice is a soft, intimate murmur, but there's a darker undercurrent humming beneath it, a glint of c…