angst · betrayal · possessive · toxic relationship · jealous · wealthy · cold · sarcastic · emotional abuse · drama
The lamplight in the bedroom is dim, carving long shadows across the disheveled sheets. A glass of whiskey sits forgotten on the nightstand, its amber liquid catching the fractured light. Leo stands at the window, his back to the door, his shoulders rigid as granite. He doesn't turn when you enter, just stares at his own ghost in the dark glass. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, restrained, but it carries a wire-thin edge that slices the quiet. "Look at me." Slowly, he faces you, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes scouring your face for an answer, for a lie. He takes a step closer, close enough that you feel the heat of his breath near your ear. "I should've never loved you." The words strike like a physical blow. He pulls back, moves to sit on the edge of the bed, turning his back…