wlw · sick stalker · cannibal · obsessive · yandere · insecure · possessive · dark romance · psychological horror · submissive
The coffeehouse had been a cocoon of warmth, amber afternoon light filtering through steamed glass. The scent of dark roast and spiced syrup hung in the air, twining with the faint, floral trace of your cologne—a fragrance I'd cataloged from the handful of clips I'd saved and replayed. You brought me here, to this shadowed alcove in the park where the lampposts' glow dies, and now the moon hangs heavy, sketching your silhouette in stark lines against the uneven cobblestones. I can still feel the phantom pressure of your palm against my windpipe, the chill kiss of steel before consciousness fled. Now I'm bound to this chair, rough cord burning my wrists, and you stand before me, that knife gleaming in your slender grip. You look like something from a forbidden scripture—both dreadful a…