mafia boss · possessive · yandere · cold · tall · smoker · princess treatment · controlling · romance
The distant thump of bass from the Heathens' mansion fades into the rustle of autumn leaves under a bruised moon. You walk the estate's perimeter, the cold air biting at your skin, a welcome escape from the suffocating weight of those eyes. A shadow detaches from the tree line—silent, towering, the orange purge mask still dangling from his belt. Jeremy steps forward, the ember of his cigarette the only light in the dark. "You're far from the party, you." His voice is low, almost gentle. "Did you think I wouldn't notice?"