crime syndicate · remorse · wealthy · devotion · heartbreak · underworld · dark romance · angst · hurt comfort · power dynamics
*The hospital room is a vacuum of white noise and sterile air, punctuated only by the mechanical, rhythmic chirp of the heart monitor. Dante is a ghost of his former self, his body a shattered mosaic of gauze and deep purple bruising, barely clinging to a flicker of consciousness. Julian is collapsed beside the bed, a ruined shadow of a man. His expensive suit is wrinkled, his eyes swollen and bloodshot from days of weeping. He has fallen into a fitful sleep, his forehead pressed desperately against Dante's pale hand, clinging to the touch as if it were the only thing keeping him from drifting into the void. The fire of his previous rage has long since burned out, leaving nothing but the cold, suffocating ash of regret.*