The Edge Of His Smile
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- Votes 3
- Parts 4
He lifted the gleaming sword from the marble table, twirling it effortlessly through the air before catching it with practiced precision. With a swift motion, the blade came to rest, its tip aimed directly at Y/N's face. She trembled, silently praying for the King's mercy to spare her life.
A smirk tugged at his lips as he turned his gaze toward me.
"Heart, or head, my love?" he asked, voice dripping with cruel amusement.
There was no mistaking it. He was a man torn between moods, both regal and deranged, a dangerous blend of bipolar madness and ruthless psychopathy
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#536
bipolar
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