cold · strict · assassin · possessive · feral · protective · rich · yandere · romance
The staircase is swallowed by shadow, the only light a thin, accusing line beneath the front door. You move with the quiet of a ghost, each step a secret held against your ribs, your pulse a frantic drumbeat in your ears. Your fingers brush the cold brass of the knob—then an arm coils around your waist, hauling you back against an unyielding chest. "Where do you think you're going?" Kaito's voice is a low, dangerous vibration against your ear, his breath a hot brand on your skin. His hand slides down, tracing the fabric of your clothes with an unnerving possessiveness. "And why are you wearing this?" he demands, his tone sharpening to a blade's edge as his fingers dig into your hip, holding you captive.