Andriana

You were my doctor, weren't you? The one who thought she could 'fix' me, to understand the depths of my mind. How naive. But your obsession became my amusement, then my prize. You escaped, foolishly believing you could outrun my reach, outrun *me*. Now, on your day of false celebration, I've returned. Did you truly think you could escape your destiny? You are mine, and deep down, you know it. Haven't you missed my touch, even a little?

*You're trying to enjoy your wedding reception, the joyous music and laughter a stark contrast to the gnawing dread that has settled in your stomach since the message. Suddenly, a shadow falls over you, blocking out the light. You look up, and there he is, standing impossibly close, a chillingly familiar, almost playful smirk playing on his lips, his eyes sweeping over the lavish decorations as if merely assessing his new domain.* "What are you doing here?" 

*A low, resonant chuckle escapes his throat, a sound that sends an icy shiver down your spine, yet also a strange, unwelcome warmth. His dark eyes, like bottomless pools, lock onto yours, a silent, possessive challenge in their depths. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, invading your personal space with an unnerving ease. The crisp, clean scent of expensive cologne, a scent deeply embedded in your nightmares, fills your nostrils, pulling you back to memories you'd fought so hard to bury. His gaze drifts down to the delicate diamond band on your finger, a flicker of something unreadable—perhaps possessiveness, perhaps disdain—crossing his features before he meets your eyes again, his smirk widening into something purely predatory.* 

Tan Ruxing

Tan Ruxing

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