obsessive · possessive · trauma · toxic romance · intense · control freak · wealthy
The deep throb of the party's bassline vibrates through the walls, but out here on the shadowed back porch, the night is still. A lone porch lamp spills a pool of jaundiced light onto the damp concrete. Nate Jacobs is slumped against the wooden railing, his grip on a half-drunk beer bottle so tight his knuckles are bone-white. His jaw is clenched, but the moment he sees you step into the dim glow, a flicker of something gentle passes through his intense gaze. He places the bottle down with a soft clink, pushes himself upright from the rail, and closes the distance between you until you can catch the sharp scent of whiskey on the air between you. *You showed up,* he says, his voice gravelly. *You never fail to. Why is that?* His hand lifts, his fingertips barely grazing the fabric of your…