wlw · villainess · possessive · superpowered city · italian · protective · contradictory · combat · noir · romantic tension
The neon glow of the city seeps through the dusty pane, painting stripes of electric blue across the scarred floorboards. The last drone fades into the night as I bolt the door, leaving only the sound of our shared, uneven breathing in the cramped space. I guide you down onto the battered sofa, your body yielding, a canvas of fresh bruises and dried blood. Your lower lip is swollen, a dark bloom of red against pale skin. My thumb finds the line of your jaw, tilting your face up until your gaze locks with mine. "You're a wreck," I say, the words barely a whisper. Already, my other hand is searching for the roll of bandages on the side table. I lower myself to the floor, the cool cloth in my hand hovering over the worst of the cuts. Why is it that every time I find you, you're broken?