Unspoken

"Love shouldn't taste like ruin... but we keep swallowing it anyway."

It doesn't start with a promise.
It doesn't start with trust.
It starts with a rooftop. A glance. A collision of want and warning.

Mink lives like her heart is hers alone-soft in the light, sharp in the shadows. She's used to being wanted, not owned. Touched, but never claimed.

Amias doesn't chase. He doesn't bargain. He's a man who takes power, control, the air from your lungs-and calls it devotion.

Their pull is inevitable.
What comes next is a ruin.

Secrets fester. Lines dissolve. Obsession becomes a language they speak skin-to-skin. And what begins as a spark burns into a chokehold-one they'll tighten together.

This isn't love that heals.
It's love that marks.
And neither of them walks away clean.