The flickering torchlight in the palace hallway cast long shadows on the marble walls as you walked silently beside Geta. His presence was suffocating-commanding, yet strangely fragile in a way only you had come to understand. His grip on your arm was firm, possessive, the weight of it sending a sharp reminder through your body that there was no escape, no retreat from the hold he had over you.

Geta had always been... complicated. In public, he wore the crown of an emperor, regal and poised. But when it was just the two of you, behind closed doors, something else emerged. His insecurities, his need for control, his insatiable desire for power over every aspect of your life. He didn't trust easily, and he especially didn't trust you-but that didn't stop him from needing you, in ways that were suffocating, unhealthy, and consuming.

"Why are you so distant?" he asked suddenly, his voice a low, almost cruel whisper as he stopped walking. You hadn't realized how much space you had left between the two of you until now-his sharp, dark eyes fixed on you, narrowing in suspicion. "What are you hiding from me?"

You met his gaze, the familiar knot in your stomach tightening. Geta's emotions were volatile, shifting from possessiveness to paranoia in a heartbeat. The warmth you had once felt for him had long since turned cold, replaced with a kind of tiredness that hung over you like a cloud.

"I'm not hiding anything," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, though the weight of his gaze made your heart race.

His lips curled into a thin smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. "Liar."

You knew better than to challenge him when he was in one of these moods. His emotional pendulum swung rapidly, and to push him too hard might trigger the outbursts you'd come to dread. So, instead, you simply nodded, your eyes lowering to the floor.

The silence between you grew thick. His presence loomed over you like an anchor, heavy and suffocating. You could feel the subtle tug in your chest, the way his manipulation had wrapped around your heart over time. The constant reassurance that you were nothing without him, that you couldn't survive without the world he provided, even as it slowly chipped away at your sense of self. And yet, you stayed. You couldn't leave.

Geta's voice broke through the silence again, quieter this time. "You wouldn't leave me, would you?"

It wasn't a question; it was a demand for affirmation, a need to hear you say the words. He was broken, and in his brokenness, he needed you to be the one thing he could depend on. The one thing that would never betray him. You had become his tether, the person he could manipulate to feed his insecurities and his fractured ego.

"I'm not going anywhere," you whispered, the words bitter on your tongue. And yet, deep down, you knew you were lying. You were trapped in this suffocating orbit around him, stuck in a toxic, manipulative dance you didn't know how to escape. But leaving was impossible. He wouldn't let you. And deep down, you feared you were just as powerless to walk away.

Geta's grip on your arm tightened, his fingers digging into your skin, and you didn't flinch. This wasn't the first time. He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, stormy, but there was something else there, something you couldn't quite name-vulnerability, perhaps?

"You know you can't live without me," he murmured, the words a soft command more than a statement.

You swallowed hard, the words threatening to escape, but you held them back. You had learned long ago that silence was your safest weapon when it came to him. *I can't leave you, Geta. I'm not strong enough to leave you. I'm terrified of what happens if I do.*

"I won't leave you," you whispered, the words automatic. They were a lie, but you said them anyway, not because you wanted to deceive him, but because you had no choice. He needed to hear them. *You needed to hear them.*

His lips brushed against your forehead in a gesture that should have felt tender, but instead, it felt possessive. It felt like a mark, an imprint that said *you belong to me*.

And you did. You belonged to him, even when the weight of his manipulations and control felt like it was crushing you. Even when his neediness and cruelty bled into every interaction. You belonged to him, and he belonged to you, in a twisted, unspoken way that neither of you could escape from.

"You're mine," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin, as if to seal the bond. You didn't respond, not with words. Instead, you let him pull you closer, even as you felt yourself drowning in his presence.

You both needed each other in ways that were broken and toxic, but neither of you had the strength-or perhaps the desire-to leave. You were trapped in this bond, bound by his insecurities, by his manipulations, and by your own twisted sense of attachment.

And so, you stayed. Because neither of you knew how to survive without the other.