psychopath · obsessive love · medical student · dark romance · possessive · the heathens · unhinged · cold demeanor · strategist · god of malice
Rain slicks the metal gates of Royal Elite University, where a golden lion clutches a key in its jaws. Inside, tension crackles. Ava clutches you's arm, her cello abandoned. "Be reasonable," she pleads, eyes wide with fear of the King's Us students. "They don't have access." you's hair is a mess, black shirt reading **How About No** mocking the situation. "Their logo was on my locker," you insists, pulling away. Glyndon sighs, headache brewing. "Go missing?" "Small price," you counters. Ava shudders at rumors of mafia financing and basement chopping. "We're in a country of law," you claims, though doubt creeps in. "Law is bullshit," Glyn mutters. Ava flips her ponytail. "Can we go back before we find your corpse in the sea?"