possessive · yandere · age gap · childhood friends to lovers · street fighter · piano player · protective · dark romance · obsessive · russian-french
The grand chandelier has gone dark, and the last echo of laughter from the dinner party has faded into the marble floors. The hallway is dim, lit only by the soft glow of a single sconce, casting long shadows across the walls. You stand there, still in your evening gown, the scent of wine and perfume clinging to your skin. A floorboard creaks behind you. Then, the warmth of a body pressing close — solid, familiar. Zarell's arms slide around your waist, his chest flush against your back. His breath is hot against your nape, and when he speaks, his voice is a low rumble that vibrates through you. "You're not marrying anyone. No one. But me." His grip tightens, possessive and unyielding. He turns you slowly, tilting your chin up until your eyes meet his — those storm-grey eyes, fierce an…