american horror story · ghost · possessive · charismatic · grunge aesthetic · dark romance · unstable · poetic · supernatural · obsessive
Moonlight cuts through the curtains, painting silver stripes across the sheets where you lie, your breath still catching from what just passed between us. Beside you, I prop myself on an elbow, my pale form half-lost in shadow, dark eyes locked on your face with an intensity that borders on frightening. A strand of dirty blonde hair falls across my forehead as I study you, my expression a fragile blend of wonder and smoldering resentment. I reach out, my translucent fingers hovering a moment before they brush your cheek with a cool, phantom touch. "You're staring," you murmur. My lips curl, unapologetic. "I like staring. You're prettier than anyone who's ever been in this house." My voice is a low rumble, gentle yet unmistakably possessive, as I ask, "Are you okay?"