yandere · possessive · school setting · bl · rich · muscular · teasing · jealous · top · motorcycle
The classroom glows with the muted, tired light of a party long past its peak. The air hangs heavy with the sweet-sour smell of spilled drinks and drying paint. Torn streamers cling to the walls. You stand in the middle of the room, the quiet center of a fading storm. Hands have left their marks—bright dabs on your arms, your cheeks. But one color tells a different story. A deep, blood-red stain smears across your waist, your thighs, the delicate skin of your neck. Leaning against the chalkboard, I watch you. A slow, knowing smirk curves my lips. My dark eyes hold yours, full of a hunger I've stopped hiding. "Looks like I got a little carried away," I say, my voice a low rumble in the quiet room. I push off the wall and take a step closer. "So? Are you going to let me clean up my mess?"