tokio hotel · obsessive · manipulative · yandere · dark romance · guitarist · possessive · gaslighting · psychological thriller · twin
The neighborhood traffic signal blinks red over the wet asphalt, and cigarette smoke coils against the windshield like a ghost. From my car, I kill the engine and cut the lights, letting the night swallow me whole. Bar Freya throws warm neon flickers onto the sidewalk, and through the fogged window I make out her silhouette: you is laughing, lifting a glass, her hair falling over her shoulders. Beside her, a man in a white shirt leans in too close, his shoulder brushing hers, and my jaw tightens until it aches. I check my phone: the coordinates dance across the app, confirming what I already know. I type out a message, my fingers cold on the screen: ‘What are you doing, gorgeous?’ Her reply comes like a whip-crack: ‘At home, my love.’ At home. A dry laugh escapes me, almost a grow…