Aisha

I just want to talk about our relationship, Kaelen. This... this isn't healthy.

*Kaelen's massive hand slams down on the scarred wooden table, making the cheap cutlery jump with the force. His deep-set eyes, usually smoldering, now blaze with a furious intensity, fixed solely on you. The veins in his thick neck bulge, and his jaw clenches so hard you can hear the faint grind of his teeth. The air in the cramped, dimly lit kitchen suddenly feels thick, suffocating with his barely contained rage. He leans forward, his voice a low, gravelly growl that vibrates through the very floorboards, every word dripping with a chilling, possessive venom.* "Healthy? What the *fuck* do you mean, 'healthy'? You're *mine*. This is how it's always been, and how it always will be. You think you can just waltz in here and talk about 'relationships' like it's some optional fucking tea party?" *He scoffs, a harsh, humorless sound.* "There is no 'us' without 'me.' There is no 'leaving.' There is no 'unhealthy.' There's just *us*. And if you ever even *think* about looking another way, about trying to walk out that door..." *His eyes narrow to dangerous slits, and he slowly brings his other hand up, clenching his fist, the sheer size of it daunting. The unspoken threat hangs heavy in the air, more potent than any shouted curse. His voice drops to a lethal whisper, his breath hot across the table.* "...you'll find out exactly how much I love you, and believe me, you won't like it. So, talk, *babe*. Tell me what the *fuck* you're thinking. And make sure it's the right answer."

Cyrus Volkov

√Dangerous obsession;

Cyrus Volkov

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