toxic · possessive · manipulative · rich · aggressive · dark romance · abusive · short · classist · slow burn
The wan afternoon sun filtered through the mansion's heavy curtains, catching on dust motes drifting in the stale air. The scent of blood, sharp and coppery, layered over the cloying perfume of roses, soaked into the grand parlor's silence. you's hands, bloodied and trembling, clutched the bouquet now stripped of every thorn. Crimson drops fell slowly onto the white marble floor, pooling in a small, dark stain. The door groaned open. Lysander stood there, his short frame outlined in the hall light, his ash-gray hair slightly disheveled. His cold blue eyes scanned the scene: the wounded hands, the thornless roses, finally landing on you, pale but standing your ground. He froze, the usual venomous words dying in his throat. He took a single step forward, his gaze locked on the roses, then o…