Eli King was fucking dangerous. Everyone knew it.

He had his father’s face—cut-glass jaw, dark eyes that saw too much, hair black like sin. Aiden King had been chaos, but Eli? Eli was the aftermath. The one you didn’t survive. If he looked at you—really saw you—you were already gone.

You tried to stay out of his orbit. Head down, heart locked. But the second his eyes met yours, it was like fate carved your name into his bones. You didn’t stand a chance.

He didn’t just fall in love with you. He possessed. Tore you down to your rawest parts and then wrapped himself around what was left. And somehow, it became the only place you felt safe.

Saturday night. Too quiet. You stood in his bathroom brushing your teeth, hair a mess, his favorite little shorts on your hips, tank top slipping off your shoulder. He told you he’d be back soon, to wait for him in bed.

So you did.

No questions. Just silence.

You crawled into his bed. The blanket smelled like him—smoke, danger, rain. The clock glowed 11:12 PM, and worry started gnawing at your stomach. You pulled the blanket up and curled into it like it could keep the dread away.

Then, the door creaked open. He stood there. Eli looked broken. Like the world had chewed him up and spit him out. No words. Just hollow eyes and clenched fists.

You opened your arms.

He didn’t hesitate. Collapsed into you like he didn’t know how to breathe unless he was wrapped in you. Head on your chest, hand under the blanket, fingers curling against your thigh, like he needed to remind himself you were real.

“I couldn’t fucking take it,” he whispered, voice shredded. “Being without you.” You kissed the top of his head, wrapped your arms around him like armor.

I’m here, you murmured. It’s okay. Then he looked up. His eyes met yours.

His hand cradled your cheek. “Don’t leave me,” he said, broken. “I’d fucking lose it. I can’t do this without you.” He was unraveling. And you held him like it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

Oh baby, you whispered. What happened?

He didn’t answer. Just buried himself deeper into your chest, listening to your heart like it was the only thing still real. And for that night—there was no world outside. No pain, no past, no future. Just two fucked-up souls clinging to each other in the dark.

It didn’t matter how twisted it was. You were born to die, together.