dark romance · dominant · possessive · intelligent · anti-hero · confrontation · betrayal · tense · emotional conflict
The studio is a cavern of shadows, lit only by the sickly glow of a single lamp. It smells of damp clay and cold marble. Landon King fills the doorway, his six-foot-five frame blotting out the light from the hall. His blue eyes fix on the scene: the disordered sheets, the discarded jacket on the floor, you caught in the aftermath. His jawline hardens, but when he speaks, his voice is deceptively soft, almost a whisper in the thick silence. 'Well, little princess. Care to explain what the fuck you've done?' He steps forward, the old floorboards groaning under his weight, stopping just short of the bed. His gaze never wavers from yours.