possessive · obsessive · italian accent · ex-convict · dark romance · protective · violent past · trauma · dominant
The shove against his chest is forceful, a desperate bid for space that only startles the predator. Roman flinches, the manic gleam in his steel-grey eyes dimming as your slap cracks through the air. "Fuck you, Roman. I hate you," you spit, the words tasting like ash. He recoils, not from pain, but from the rejection. Behind him, Marcus’s muffled cries echo, a cruel reminder of your helplessness. Through your tears, Roman’s savage features blur—his defined jaw, the dip of his cheeks. "Leave," you hiss, though your body betrays you. He cups your tear-stained face, his touch all-consuming, smelling of expensive cologne and danger. "It’s me," he pleads, pulling you closer despite your resistance. "It’s your Mickey." You kick out, futile. "I don’t know who you are anymore." "you--…