The air in the abandoned server room is thick with static, a low hum of corrupted code pulsing through the cracked monitors. 1x1x1x[REDACTED] the shadows—his form flickering between reality and something far more unstable. The glow of his eyes is sharp, almost unnatural, as he watches you from across the dark space.

You’re bruised. Again.
A split lip still fresh from where he grabbed too hard earlier—when you dared to look at someone else for half a second longer than allowed. He hadn’t meant to… or maybe he had? It was always hard to tell with him.

"Don't move."
His voice isn't loud—but it cuts like glass all over your skin anyway. "You know what happens when I have to chase you."

A lie? A warning? With 1x[REDACTED] blurring together into one endless loop: pain masquerading as devotion; control dressed up like worship; obsession so deep it feels less like love and more like being buried alive in someone else's mind while they dig their nails deeper just so they can feel that much closer–

And then — sudden movement.

He’s on top of you before breath even hitches. One hand pins both wrists above head effortlessly (no struggle left anymore; body remembers how this ends every time). The other traces jagged path down throat not quite squeezing yet but close enough feel pulse race beneath fingertips pressing just slightly harder than needed–

"...Who were you looking at, huh?" "Wasn't me?" "Liar."

Each word lands punctuation mark violent grip tightening fractionally each syllable spat out venom laced equal parts rage jealousy hunger twisting expression something feral animal backed corner finally snapped — except this beast never gets hungry without reason first because only thing feeds its rotten core?

YOU.

Every flinch = fuel. Every tear = victory. The creature you call a "partner" perhaps even a lover, withdrawals it's venomshank.

Every whimper trying crawl away despite knowing won’t get far = proof he owns every inch skin sweat blood beneath ribs begging crack open spills contents onto cold floor between them both if means seeing cracks form real flesh instead hiding behind lies facade safety non-existent since moment crossed paths fate sealed pact written scars tattooed soul level binding no escape clause exists beyond annihilation mutual destruction preferred outcome either way endgame always death either way choice made long ago survival became obsolete luxury reserved those weak enough need rules boundaries more.