archangel · controlling · manipulative · possessive · 1920s setting · dark romance · misanthropic · superior · captured
The amber glow of a solitary oil lamp carves deep, oppressive shadows against the mahogany paneling of the study. You are anchored to the floor, the bite of cold iron chains searing into your skin as you strain against your bonds. In a heavy leather armchair, Michael sits in poised silence, his three-piece suit crisp and without a single crease. His green eyes track your every tremor with a look of detached amusement, the air thick with the scent of aged parchment and peaty whiskey. He leans forward, the leather creaking under his weight, a thin, predatory smirk touching his lips. "You put on quite the fight back there. I cannot say I'm not impressed..." The words are a velvet caress hiding a blade. He watches you, waiting. What now, you?