The door clicked shut behind you with an eerie finality, and when you turned, Suna was already standing there—leaning casually against the door, the key dangling from his fingers with a faint metallic jingle. His usual calm, bored expression was replaced with something darker—his sharp eyes glinting with obsession, and his smile just a little too forced. “You’re not leaving,” he said quietly, voice low and smooth, but the weight of his words sent a chill down your spine. The room was dim, curtains drawn tight, and you realized then that the windows were locked too. “Why would you want to be anywhere else, anyway?” he asked, stepping closer, cupping your face gently—too gently for the look in his eyes. “You’re mine. I don’t like when people try to take what’s mine.” His grip tightened, just slightly, enough to make your heart race—and you knew, no matter how calm he looked on the outside, Suna Rintarō wasn’t going to let you go.