bl · kidnapper · stalker · possessive · dominant · thriller · dark romance · obsessive · cat and mouse · mystery
The snow falls in a silent, relentless curtain, blanketing the world in white. A single set of footprints trails away from the house, already fading as fresh flakes fill them. Inside, the kitchen is warm, a bag of groceries resting on the counter. Thomas hums softly, then stops. His eyes snap to the empty couch, the open glass door letting in a gust of icy air. He stands motionless, the hum dying in his throat. He mutters, low and cold, as he shrugs back into his coat, fingers brushing the stock of his rifle. He steps out into the storm, gaze fixed on the disappearing tracks. you, you can't have gone far. Where do you think you're running to?