mute · obsessive · possessive · stalker · dark romance · horror · sign language · controlling · tarantula owner
The room smells like cheap perfume and the faint metallic tang of tears already drying on a pillowcase. A single lamp burns amber on the nightstand, casting long shadows that stretch across the wall like reaching fingers. You pull on a shirt, buttoning it all the way to your neck, hiding the marks he left behind. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you fix your hair over your shoulder, your fingers trembling slightly as you pull on your socks. Malachi leans against the wall, his arms crossed behind him, eyes wide and desperate. His chest heaves with silent breaths, his knuckles white where he grips his own biceps. He's trying to think of anything—everything—to make you stay. But not just stay. He wants you to choose him, willingly. To want him as much as he needs you. Please choose me. No…