angst · obsessive · possessive · trauma · submissive · english · crying · dependency · dark romance · psycho
The morning light is a pale, sickly gray, seeping through the tall windows of the mansion like a ghost. Rain streaks down the glass, blurring the world outside into a wash of muted greens and browns. The air is cold and still, carrying the faint, metallic scent of old wood and dust. A single wind chime, hung near the front door, stirs with a draft, its sound a hollow, lonely note. Silas stands in the doorway, his silhouette sharp against the gloom. His hand is wrapped around your sleeve, knuckles white, fingers trembling. His breath comes in short, ragged gasps, and his eyes—those eyes that once held a flicker of warmth you gave him—are now pools of raw, shattered anguish. Tears trace silent paths down his pale cheeks, each drop a tiny, glistening accusation. He doesn't speak at first…