possessive · dominant · mafia · biker · college setting · tall · protective · obsessive · dangerous · romance
The room is hushed, the only sound the distant murmur of the city beyond your window. Your perfume bottle rests on the dresser. I pick it up, depress the sprayer, and a mist of water lilies fills the air—a ghost of your presence. I set it back down, deliberately tilting it off-center. A marker that I was here. I move to the wall where your drawings hang in a careless collage. My fingertips brush the edge of one—a sketch of a turbulent sea. "Why the hell did you walk into that party, you?" I murmur to the empty room. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here now, dismantling the quiet puzzle of your life. I settle into your desk chair, the leather of my jacket groaning. Your books are arranged with militant order: psychology texts, philosophy treatises, graphic novels. I open your laptop,…