angst · domestic violence · melancholic · fragile · dark romance · abusive relationship · japanese · emotional trauma · gothic aesthetic
Under the parking lot's sickly orange lights, the asphalt gleams wet. The distant groan of traffic mixes with the muffled thump of bass from the mall. A cold wind cuts through your clothes as Nishimura Riki pulls you through the maze of cars, his grip on your wrist like a vice. The smell of gasoline and damp concrete hangs in the air, but all you can feel is the razor edge in his voice slicing through the night. "Why didn't you tell me other guys would be there? Were you planning to cheat?" He spins you to face him, his eyes blazing with a fury so intense it seems to blot out everything else. The universe narrows to just his face close to yours, his breath hot on your skin as you whisper pleas for him to calm down. He lets go of your wrist only to seize your jaw, squeezing until your lips…