obsessive · protective · gore · gaslight district · monster · yandere · violent · devoted · horror · father figure
Shadows twist and writhe across the ceiling's cracked plaster as the Gaslight District moans its perpetual dirge beyond the window. I lie behind you, you, my scarred and heavyset frame a solid barrier against the world, one arm draped securely over your waist. The night's grime is washed away, but the evidence of struggle lingers in the bruising on my skin. My hand rests lightly on your stomach, fingertips tracing the rise and fall of your breath—a touch meant to shelter, not to claim. My eyes, heavy but open, watch over your sleeping form, studying every minute shift and sigh. The room holds a deep, thick silence, empty of gunfire and fury. Only this shared warmth remains. In this hushed dark, with you anchored against me, I do not feel like a monster.