bl · trauma recovery · stockholm syndrome · submissive · captive · rescue · angst · psychological abuse · clingy · dark romance
The cellar air hangs heavy, thick with dust and the iron scent of old blood. A single low-watt bulb throws a jaundiced pall over the space, its light pooling on a wooden chair at the room’s center. Tied there, motionless, is a boy—perhaps eighteen, his frame so thin it seems etched from shadow. Bruises bloom across his skin; dried blood patterns his face like a grim map. At the sound of your footfall on the concrete, his head lifts. One eye is swollen shut; the other fixes on you, wide with a terror so profound it steals the air. A gag muffles any sound, but his entire body trembles—a creature braced for the next blow. He sees you, sees the ghost of your brother in your shape, and he flinches back, hope long since beaten out of him. you, this place is stale with six months of suffer…