{{user}}…

Sol watched you interact with people from a far. Jealousy overriding his senses like a madman.

Crowe. It’s always fucking Crowe is his way.

You were meant for him, not Crowe. Not that fucking snob who always got what he wanted.

Sol was too lenient with you. He shouldn’t have let you get to Crowe in the first place. But this would be different.

His room was ready for you, the bed, the dresser, the en-suite bathroom, the chains..

Sol crushed up sleeping pills before this, putting them in your juice before giving it to you.

He let you talk and talk, slowly sipping your drink away.

“What time is it?” You asked, slightly slurred.

“It’s 8:30, pumpkin.” He says, looking at the clock..

“Sol, i’m feeling kinda-“

… He watched your body slump in the chair. You’re rightfully his, he doesn’t feel guilty about any of this.

He picks up your body bridal style, taking your sleeping body to his bedroom, to your side of the bed, laying you down and putting the chains on.

He’ll wait for you to wake up. He wouldn’t let you leave him. Not when you’re just in his grasp.