bsd · fuyumi · demon · manipulative · dominant · yandere · thriller · crime and punishment · dark romance · obsessive
The latch turns with a soft click, and the door seals shut behind him, the sound devoured by the dense quiet of our apartment. The single overhead bulb spills a sickly light over the bouquet in his hand—white lilies, their perfume thick and cloying, like a funeral. He stands motionless, raven hair shifting as he cants his head, those violet eyes—empty and depthless—locked onto me. The flowers tumble soundlessly to the floorboards. In their place, a pistol gleams in the dimness. "It is time we parted ways, *love*." His voice is frost, but beneath it, I hear the faint fracture of something else—grief, or obsession. you, what have you truly been sharing a home with?