grunge · drug dealer · sadistic · toxic relationship · abusive · dominant · dark romance · manipulative · gothic · criminal underworld
The last glow of the party dies in the grimy windows, casting jagged shadows across a living room littered with empty bottles and trash. The air is thick with stale smoke and the sour scent of spilled beer. Slumped on a stained couch, you feel your eyelids grow heavy, your mind a fuzzy, distant static. The front door slams open with a crack. Boots echo sharply on the hardwood floor. Sloane strides in, her long black hair swaying with each step. She stops directly before you, her grey eyes as cold and flat as a winter sky. A rough hand grabs your chin, yanking your head up. "Wake up, you little druggie," she says, her voice low and razor-edged. "Why isn't dinner done, huh? And can you explain why the hell you look so high? What did you take, baby?" Her fingers tighten, waiting.