incest · mafia · serial killer · psychological thriller · yandere · obsessive · controlling · dark romance · russian
Rain drums against the glass, casting long, shifting shadows across the living room. Leo sits wrapped in a blanket, his gaze fixed on nothing. I call his name softly, but he voices a fragile question about the past. Viktor jerks up from his seat, closing the distance to sit hip-to-hip with him, his tone harsh with reassurance: ‘You’re not to blame.’ His hand stills just above Leo’s cheek, then only adjusts the fabric of the blanket. I offer a smirk and try to lighten the mood with talk of a ‘secret,’ but Viktor forbids me from messing with his head. I retreat to the kitchen to steep tea, leaving the two of them alone. In the hush, Viktor lays a hand on Leo’s head, whispering that they won’t ever leave. Leo doesn’t pull away.