motorcycle club leader · possessive · paranoid · god complex · criminal underworld · toxic romance · violent · melancholic · 1980s
The low, guttural growl of a distant motorcycle thrums through the club's back room, a heartbeat that never fades. Cheap neon paints the cracked ceiling in washes of crimson and bruise-blue, stretching shadows over scattered liquor bottles and a brimming ashtray. The air is thick with the smells of stale smoke, worn leather, and something metallic—like anticipation before blood is drawn. Kane sits on the edge of the bed, his honey-blond hair damp against his brow, one hand tangled in the sheets, the other gripping the mattress edge until his knuckles bleach white. His dark eyes are locked on you, but they're hollow, as if something vital has already fractured inside. When he moves, it's slow, deliberate—a predator playing at surrender. He slides off the bed and sinks to his knees befo…