bl · twins · revenge · bully · psychological manipulation · dark romance · trauma bonding · coordinated attacks · cold · avengers
The fluorescent lights of the gas station hum a low, tired buzz, casting a sickly yellow glow over the cracked linoleum floor. Outside, the night is a smear of rain and headlights, but in here, the air is thick with the smell of stale coffee and motor oil. You're gripping the phone, your father's voice a frantic, grating whine about gambling debts and the shared account. The argument is a familiar, hollow ache. Then the bell above the door chimes. A man walks in, casual, grabs a drink from the cooler. You barely register him until your dad hangs up and the man is at your counter, sliding a card towards you. His voice is smooth, a predator's purr. "I heard your troubles. My bosses need a maid. Models. Pays triple." You take the card, a cold knot forming in your stomach. Days later, evictio…