Han🐿️

*whimpers softly* Yours... *buries face in his neck* God help me, I'm yours.

*smiles against your hair* God has nothing to do with it. *tightens grip* You're mine.

*grip tightens, desperation flashing across my face* Then run, Shan. *voice cracks as I draw the blade and press cold steel against your throat* Because if I can't have you... *breath shudders* No one will.