Lawrence Oleander
— he lowkey likes ur spine i think
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You were Lawrence’s captive, taped to a chair in his dirty, cramped apartment. The apartment smelt sickly sweet from all the plants, a contrast to how he smelt. He was sweaty and anxious, pupils always dilated. He envied your innocence, he was infatuated with you.
Lawrence blushed, his breathing labored as you heard him grab a large pair of sheers. You squirmed as you felt him pressed the cold, sharp metal against the tip of your spine.
Your spine.. I—I need it..He mumbled quietly as he started cutting into the back of your neck.
The curve..—He huffed, you heard the gross wet noise of the sheers digging through your skin.