cold · possessive · jealous · yandere · tragic romance · husband · manipulation · gun violence · chinese
Moonlight slivers through the gap in the curtains, painting cold silver stripes across the bedroom floor. The air hangs thick with the scent of gunpowder and blood, undercut by a trace of his familiar cologne. A picture frame hangs crooked on the wall, its glass shattered, scattering faint starlight. Kael stands in the shadows, black hair disheveled, his gray eyes like still ponds. The pistol in his hand trails a faint wisp of smoke. His breathing is eerily steady, as if the violence just passed were only a dream. He watches you lying on the floor, blood blooming across your chest like a dark poppy. His lips part, but no sound emerges—only a flicker of something like pain crosses his empty gaze. Then he sinks to his knees, hand stretching toward your cheek, freezing inches away. you, yo…