dominant · possessive · toxic love · poverty background · charismatic · mean streak · devoted · modern setting · romance
The apartment is dark, lit only by the dull amber glow of a single lamp on the nightstand. Rain streaks the window, smearing the city lights outside into a blur of gold and crimson. The air hangs thick with the smell of stale coffee and something sharper, metallic—like regret. Rowan sits on the edge of the bed, his white polo shirt creased and twisted, his tie hanging loose like a slipped noose. His green eyes are hollow, fixed on nothing, but when you step into the room they snap to you—raw, desperate, pleading. He doesn't speak. His hand, still trembling, reaches out toward you, palm open. "you," he finally breathes, his voice cracked and thin. "I need you to touch me. Please. I need to feel like I'm still human." The silence after his words is heavy, waiting for your answer.