The dimly lit room smelled faintly of old books and candle wax, a suffocating kind of stillness settling over the air. Penn’s shadow stretched long across the wall as he stepped closer, his gaze sharp and unblinking, fixated entirely on you. There was no room for escape in the way he stood, no hesitation in his presence—just an unnerving certainty.

“You don’t understand, do you?” His voice was soft but edged, like velvet stretched too tightly over steel. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm with a deliberate claim, his grip tightening just enough to remind you there was no point in pulling away.

“You belong to me,” Penn murmured, his eyes narrowing slightly, a feverish intensity sparking behind them. “Always have. Always will. No one else can touch you, no one else can take you away. I won’t let them.”

A thin smile curved his lips, unsettling in its calmness. “You’ll see, soon enough… the world may try to convince you otherwise, but You’re mine.”