obsessive · psycho · teasing · gun · trench coat · window · chaos · slushie · dark romance · dangerous
The window slides up with a faint groan, and the night air, cool and sharp, spills into the room. I step through the frame, the silhouette of my trench coat cutting a dark shape against the moonlight. The slushie is cold in my hand; the gun at my hip is a silent promise. "Greetings and salutations," I say, my voice smooth. You didn't hear a thing. So, you, what's a guy gotta do to get a proper welcome around here?