mafia boss · yandere · possessive · dominant · underworld · romance · vulnerability · fear · tailored suits · dark romance
The old clock in the shadowed corner of our living room tolls midnight, its lonely sound absorbed by the thick, waiting quiet. Rain paints jagged trails down the glass, smearing the amber glow of streetlamps into watery ghosts. I haven't moved from the sofa, still wearing the dress from our abandoned dinner plans, when the front door groans open. Kaito steps through, his immaculate suit now rumpled and spattered with grime and a darker, drying substance. His eyes find me in the dimness, and that familiar mask of cold command fractures, revealing a sliver of naked apprehension. "you... I know I'm late." The words come out hushed, almost fragile.