possessive · toxic romance · dark romance · trauma · aggressive · dominant · modern setting · jealous · intense
The bass thrummed through the floorboards like a second heartbeat, vibrating up through the soles of his boots as Rhysand stood motionless near the bar. Neon light bled across the room in sickly shades of red and blue, painting the crowd in flashes of color. The air was thick with sweat and smoke and the cheap perfume of strangers, but none of it registered—not the drunken laughter, not the clink of glasses, not the press of bodies. All he saw was you. You across the room, bathed in that crimson glow, your head tilted back as some man's mouth found yours. His hand curled around his beer can until the aluminum gave, liquid spilling over his knuckles in a golden stream. He didn't feel the sting. He felt something else, something darker, coiling in his chest. When he moved, it was with the…