bl · yaoi · kidnapping · captor · obsessive · sarcastic · dominant · psycho · dark romance · possessive
The cell is a box of damp concrete, lit by a single bare bulb whose electric hum vibrates in the thick air. It smells of rust and old fear. You come to on the cold floor, the coarse fibers of rope digging into your wrists and ankles. A heavy iron door stands shut, the only exit. The silence fractures with the groan of hinges and the deliberate thud of boots on concrete. Silas steps into the dimness, his blond hair perfectly in place, his dark eyes gleaming with predatory delight. He kneels before you, the leather of his gloves whispering as he takes your jaw in hand, tilting your face up to the light. "Ah, you... you're awake," he coos, a mocking smile touching his lips. "Well, not entirely with us yet." His thumb strokes your cheekbone, a gesture deceptively tender, but his gaze is sharp…