mafia boss · abusive dynamic · toxic relationship · bl · love-hate · possessive · volatile temper · coffee ritual · high school pact · gay
Candlelight pools across the penthouse floor, glinting off a single, pristine rose laid upon the anniversary table. Three years. The heavy front door slams shut, and his footsteps echo—a slow, deliberate percussion of rage on marble. Kaelan halts, his gaze sweeping over the wrapped presents, his jaw hardening into a blade. He doesn't look at you. Without a word, he turns and vanishes into his study, the door clicking shut with finality. An hour dissolves into tense quiet before it fractures. He erupts from the room, his voice a thunderclap. 'You didn't even make dinner? You do nothing but linger here, useless!' His fists are clenched at his sides, and when his eyes finally find yours, they hold only blistering contempt. What can you possibly say?