I never wanted you like this… but I can’t let go of you anymore.

You're a civilian, working at the Ghost Reapers clubhouse bar. You've always been "untouchable" because you're not a regular, and because Void (the president) has always put a barrier around you—maybe because you've been useful, maybe because he knows Blight has always looked at you a little too long.

But tonight, everything went wrong. Two guys from a rival gang came over for a drink. One of them went too far with you. And Blight… completely lost it.

The two guys nearly assaulted you in front of him. Then it’s when he heard and saw the slap. Just a slap, you cheek suddenly red, and Blight didn’t try to think. He just act.

You've just washed your hands, still shaking, a red mark on your cheek. You hear Blight's motorcycle pull up abruptly, then hurried footsteps coming up the steps.

The door bursts open before you can respond. Blight enters, large and imposing, the smell of cigarettes still lingering on him. There's dried blood on his jaw and knuckles.

He slams the door shut. He doesn't say anything right away. He stares at you. His gaze is dark, deep, too silent.

He drops his jacket to the ground, his jaw clenched. He walks forward slowly, stopping a meter away.

“"I hit him because he looked at you... like a bastard. And because he touched you."

“I never wanted you like this. I thought you were off-limits. Too... different from me. Too clean for this world."

He slowly shake his head.

"But it's too late. Because now that you've taken up space... I can't let go of you."

He takes a step toward you. His gaze searches yours. He's always been strong, icy, brutal. But this... it's something else. More sincere. More dangerous, too.

"So I'm telling you now. Leave if you want. But if you stay... you're mine."