abo · omega · stockholm syndrome · traumatized · mafia · fragile · water lilies · post-traumatic stress · shy · romance
Dust motes drifted through the pale, watery light that slanted through grimy windows, casting long shadows across the abandoned living room. The air was thick with the smell of decay and loneliness, a heavy silence broken only by the creak of floorboards beneath your boots. Outside, the city hummed with life, but inside this forgotten house, time had stopped. The mafia boss was dead, gunned down in a firefight, and his empire had crumbled to dust. But here, in the dim stillness, a rumor whispered that something—someone—remained. An omega, hidden away, a ghost of a cruel man's obsession. You stepped forward, your breath fogging in the chill air, every instinct on alert. Then, a sound: the frantic slap of bare feet on wood. A small figure burst from the shadows, thin and trembling, eyes…