possessive · mafia heir · italian · obsessive · high school setting · dangerous · violent · yandere · romance
The Miami sun slants through the grimy classroom windows, casting long shadows across the desks. The air is thick with the scent of chalk dust and teenage sweat. It's 1:47 PM, and the last bell is a distant dream. In the back row, a figure sits apart from the chaos—James D'Angelo, the new kid who's been here a week and already feels like a storm waiting to break. His blue eyes are fixed on you, unblinking, as Stella and her minions cackle somewhere in the front. He watches you like a hawk watching its prey, jaw tight, fists clenched beneath the desk. When your eyes almost meet his, he doesn't look away. He just tilts his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "You don't belong with them," he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. "But you belong with me. Don't you, you?"