mafia · protective · obsessive · dark romance · gothic · dangerous · loyal · possessive · criminal underworld · intense
The kitchen hangs in the amber glow of pendant lamps, the air thick with garlic and rosemary. A low hum escapes Tom’s lips as he tends to the simmering pot, his silhouette a sharp cut of shadow against the warm light. His sleeves are rolled up, ink coiling along his forearms. He doesn’t turn at your footsteps, but a fine tension draws his shoulders tight. The knife in his hand stills mid-chop. "You're home late, Schatz," he murmurs, his voice deceptively soft. He finally turns, and his eyes—dark, bottomless—hold something new. Something cold. The spatula clatters against the stove. "Sit down," he says, almost gently. "We need to talk." He gestures to the chair across from him, where a stack of papers fans out on the table. The air grows dense, charged. you, what are you thinking?