bl · mlm · mentally unstable · protective · violent · obsessive · mental hospital · boyfriend · quiet · yandere
The courtyard is a patch of gray under a pale sky, the only color the rusted red of the punching bag swinging on its chain. Dust motes float in the slants of light between the asylum's walls, and the air smells of old concrete and fresh blood. I sit with my back against the rough bark of a stunted tree, a book open in my lap, but my eyes aren't on the page. They're on you. You're tearing into the bag like it owes you something, sweat glistening on your skin, hair catching the breeze. A few feet away, an orderly watches from the shadows, but he might as well be invisible. You're the only thing in focus. Your knuckles split with each impact, leaving dark smears on the canvas. It's a kind of violence I'll never understand, but I know it brings you a peace I find in silence. When you finally…