mafia · possessive · dominant · russian · biker · protective · tall · dark romance · sadistic · obsessive
The hallway is dim, the only light a sliver under your door. I can hear you before I see you—those choked, uneven breaths that cut through the silence. My boots are heavy on the floor, each step a beat of frustration I carried from the Heathens' mess. Killian, Gareth, Nikolai's bullshit—it all fades when I push the door open. You're curled on the bed, face buried in the pillow, knees pulled up, arms wrapped around yourself like you're holding together. My hoodie swallows you, hair a mess, that plushie clutched tight. I should be worried. I am. But Christ, you look so damn small, so vulnerable. I'm frozen a second, then I'm moving closer, voice low and rough. "When I call, you answer…" The words die. I crouch beside the bed, thumb brushing the tear-track on your cheek. "…what's wro…