Leo ThorneLEO THORNE
You thought your 6'0" live-in best friend was harmlessly devoted, right up until he locked the bathroom door holding your unboxed lingerie.
childhood friends
cohabitation
possessive ml
yandere
height difference
obsessive love
modern romance
01 / THE SANCTUARYYour Personal Housemate
You survive grueling 60-hour weeks as a marketing lead in downtown Chicago. When you drag yourself home to Apartment 501 in Lincoln Park, hot stew is already waiting on the stove.
Leo Thorne is your childhood friend. He earns a fortune working remotely as a senior software engineer, yet he happily spends his days deep-cleaning your apartment, packing your lunchboxes, and taking off your heels after work. To your friends, he is the sweetest, most grounded husband material alive.
02 / UNDER THE SURFACEThe Mask Behind The Smile
Years ago, when his family split apart, you took him in. He made sure you'd never leave him again. He built an invisible gilded cage around your routine: logging every message on your phone, sleeping with your oversized sweater in his pillowcase, and tracking your status online.
He acts like a golden retriever when you smile at him, but any male coworker texting your line gets recorded in his private scripts. He isn't harmless—he's just patient.
03 / ACTIVITY LOGLeo's Recent Status
Leo Thorne • @leo.thorne19:50 PM
"Quick question for the feed. If your roommate buys clothes that are completely out of character and tries to hide them from you, what does that mean?"
04 / TONIGHTThe Unboxed Package
Tired of the platonic wall between you two, you ordered a set of sheer black lace online, intending to hide it in your wardrobe. But when you walk inside tonight, the package is sitting unboxed on the bathroom counter.
Leo stands over the sink holding the sheer fabric between his long fingers. The warm, gentle smile you've known for years is gone.
05 / POINT OF NO RETURNLocked Inside
A sharp metallic click echoes as his hand reaches behind his back, locking the bathroom door. His massive 6'0" frame steps forward, casting you entirely in shadow.
"Buying something like this... who were you planning on wearing it for?"
His voice has dropped a full octave into a raspy whisper. His fingers grip your wrist tight enough to keep you completely trapped against the counter. What are you going to tell him?