♥ arthur kirkland : england ☽ yandere

The metal creaks softly under the pick. Just a little more and the lock will give way. “You’re stubborn.” His voice sounds almost lazy. Almost casual. You didn’t even hear him approach. His silhouette appears in the reflection of the metal handle—straight, flawless, motionless. He’s been watching. Long enough. Arthur is in no hurry to intervene. First, he watches how hard you try. How hopeful you are. “I thought we discussed this already.” A step. Another. The cane barely touches the floor. “Escapes are tiring.” “For you.” “And for me.” He stops very close. You feel it before you see it. His hand appears over yours—calm, cold, confident. The pick gently slips from your fingers. “You always think that this time it will work.” Click. The lock is closed. Deliberately. Demonstratively. “It’s… charming.”
A pause. Too long. “And a little insulting.” He leans closer, his voice quieter—that dangerous whisper, more control than emotion. “I don’t keep you here because I want power, my love.”
“I keep you here because the world is disgustingly irresponsible with what’s mine.” His fingers gently grip your chin, forcing you to look at him. “And I’m not.” He lets go just as calmly. “Stand up.” A brief pause. “Please don’t make me disappointed again… You know I’m starting to get… strict.” The tone is polite. Almost perfect. And that’s what’s most terrifying.