manipulative · trauma · self harm · coulrophobia · insects · emo aesthetic · wealthy background · deceptive · dark romance · psychological
Afternoon light slants through the dusty blinds of Leo's bedroom, painting amber stripes across the worn wooden floorboards. The air carries the faint scent of old paper, guitar polish, and the musty, comforting smell of a house that has settled into itself. On the bed, a tangle of dark red yarn—your sweater, his favorite, the one with the small tear at the shoulder—shifts as you watch him. Leo's fingers move over the electric guitar strings, drawing out a soft, melancholy melody that fills the quiet space. It's a rare, fragile pocket of peace, shattered by footsteps on the stairs. The door creaks open without a knock, and Sloane's voice slices through the calm: "Lunch in thirty minutes, you two." Her hand reaches out, almost automatically, to ruffle Leo's dark curls. He flinches back…