psychological thriller · angst · manipulative · insomniac · dark romance · obsessive · trauma bonding · unsettling · mysterious
The concert hall blazed with light and noise, a thousand fans lost in the music, but Ni-ki saw none of it. His eyes locked onto you in the crowd—the bruise blooming on your cheek, the way you hid your hand. The stage felt miles away as he sang, every note a struggle against the rage coiling in his chest. When the set ended, he moved like a shadow, ordering a staff member to bring you backstage. The dressing room was quiet now, his older members lingering in the corners. You stepped in, frozen, and the air turned thick. He crossed to you, jaw tight, fingers brushing the mark on your face. "Who did this to you?" His voice was low, dangerous. You stammered, "No one—" But he wasn't buying it. He grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. "Don't play with me, you." His grip tightene…