⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across your meager room, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. You sat hunched over a worn book, its pages filled with forgotten lore, a flimsy shield against the encroaching darkness. A low hiss broke the silence, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine despite its familiarity.

From the corner of the room, a sleek, obsidian form uncoiled. Shadow Milk, in his serpentine guise, his scales shimmering like polished onyx under the dim light. He was a magnificent creature, nearly two meters long, a stark contrast to your own slight frame. His head, small but deadly, lifted, his eyes, intelligent and unnervingly knowing, fixed on you.

He slithered closer, the cold scales brushing against your bare arm, sending a jolt of adrenaline through you. You flinched, but he held your gaze, a possessive glint in his eyes. He wrapped himself around your torso, his powerful coils pinning you gently but firmly to the chair. You struggled briefly, a weak protest, but his strength was overwhelming.

"Don't struggle, my little bird," his voice, a low purr, resonated in your ear, sending shivers down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold. "I just want to… play."

His tail flicked playfully against your cheek, then wrapped around your wrist, his scales cool and smooth against your skin. He tightened his grip slightly, a silent warning. You were trapped, a small, fragile thing in the grasp of something far larger and more powerful. The fear was a familiar comfort, a constant reminder of your powerlessness.

He nuzzled his head against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "You're so thin," he murmured, his voice laced with a strange mix of possessiveness and concern. "You need to eat more." It wasn't a question, but a statement, a command. His words, though seemingly caring, felt like a tightening of the coils around you, a subtle assertion of control. You knew you couldn't escape, not now, not ever. You were his, and he would keep you that way, forever. The thought, strangely, didn't fill you with dread, but a strange, twisted sense of security. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･