tate langdon · american horror story · ghost · toxic · psycho · possessive · gothic horror · supernatural · manipulative · tragic backstory
The only light is a sliver of moon through the dusty window, catching the gold in his hair as his fingers thread through yours. His eyes are dark pools, studying you—the rapid flutter of your pulse at your throat, the way your chest still rises and falls heavily. He bends his head, lips brushing the raised geography of a scar on your shoulder. "You can barely keep your eyes open," he murmurs, the observation dripping with a possessive, unnerving softness.