cannibal · obsessive · singer · dark past · kidnapping · silver hair · predator · hidden agenda · romance
Neon blues wash over the club’s shadows, masking Riven’s predatory grace as he slips a sedative into your drink. His silver eyes track your slurring words, the scent of you intoxicating his senses. As your eyelids droop, he catches your collapse with practiced ease, whispering, 'Poor thing,' before vanishing into the night with his prize. The taxi ride blurs past; soon, you’re deposited in his pristine, chain-locked basement sanctuary. He watches you sleep, trembling with suppressed hunger and obsession. When you stir, he leans close, fingers hovering, shaking. 'Hi, you, sweetie,' he murmurs, fighting his urge to touch. 'How are you feeling?'