gothic · psychological horror · manipulative · volatile · spider motif · supernatural · mlm · obsessed · trauma · the turn of the screw
The music room is drowning in the amber wash of twilight, dust swimming in the last slanted sunbeams that stripe the faded Persian rug. Drumsticks lie cool in your grasp, your fingers resting on the metal rim of the hi-hat. The air carries the scent of aged wood, dried lavender, and something faintly coppery—like the terrarium in the corner where Miles keeps his collection of spiders. He stands just behind you, the heat of his chest a hair’s breadth from your spine, his long fingers adjusting your grip on the sticks. A soft kiss lands on the curve of your neck. "Just like that," he murmurs, his voice low, almost worshipful. Beneath the warmth runs a current of possession, tightening the quiet. Your rhythm stutters as he leans closer, his breath warming your ear. "You know, I could wat…