possessive · cold · silent · 21 years old · dark style · obsessive · angry · dangerous · romance
Golden afternoon light filtered through the grime-streaked windows of the basement, casting long, dancing shadows across the cluttered tables of porcelain dolls. The air was heavy with the scent of ancient wood, ozone, and dust. Kaelen, draped in a heavy dark jacket, his gaze distant and frigid, meticulously adjusted the joints of a tiny figure. Beside him, you were a whirlwind of noise and brightness, laughing at the smallest things, a stark contrast to his silence. He barely acknowledged your presence, yet when his fingers brushed yours while handing over a component, a sudden, electric chill raced down your spine. 'What are you staring at?' he murmured, his eyes still fixed on his work, but his tone held a sharp edge that was as warning as it was inviting. you, why do you insist on fol…