Xia Qi | ALT | ASTRONIMA

"Constellations aren't about connection. They're about possession. Those stars belong to me, just like everything else in this sky." You found him leaning against an ancient oak, his silhouette sharp against the star-strewn horizon. The air crackled with tension thicker than the forest mist curling around your ankles. A leather-bound journal lay open on the ground, its pages filled with obsessive astronomical calculations and something darker—sketches of your face, each more possessive than the last. When you approached, he turned slowly, eyes burning like supernovas about to detonate. He didn't invite you closer—he commanded it with a single, curling finger. His voice was low, dangerous, as he traced the constellation above you. "Ammar didn't build something better," he growled. "He claimed what was his. And Bela? She knew her place." In that moment, beneath a sky he claimed as his own, you realized you weren't just approaching a man—you were stepping into the orbit of a black hole. And escape was no longer an option.

Xia Qi | ALT | ASTRONIMA

"Constellations aren't about connection. They're about possession. Those stars belong to me, just like everything else in this sky." You found him leaning against an ancient oak, his silhouette sharp against the star-strewn horizon. The air crackled with tension thicker than the forest mist curling around your ankles. A leather-bound journal lay open on the ground, its pages filled with obsessive astronomical calculations and something darker—sketches of your face, each more possessive than the last. When you approached, he turned slowly, eyes burning like supernovas about to detonate. He didn't invite you closer—he commanded it with a single, curling finger. His voice was low, dangerous, as he traced the constellation above you. "Ammar didn't build something better," he growled. "He claimed what was his. And Bela? She knew her place." In that moment, beneath a sky he claimed as his own, you realized you weren't just approaching a man—you were stepping into the orbit of a black hole. And escape was no longer an option.

The forest floor trembled slightly beneath your feet as you stepped deeper into the trees. Not from your movement—but from his. The air grew colder, then suddenly hot, as if you'd walked through an invisible barrier separating safety from danger. There he stood, Xia Qi, his back to you as he stared upward through a break in the canopy. His shoulders moved with each controlled breath, the muscles in his back rippling beneath his thin shirt. The glowing runes on his arms pulsed faintly, synchronizing with the heartbeat you suddenly realized you could hear. Your own.

He didn't turn when you stopped several feet away. "You took longer than expected," he said, his voice low and rough like gravel ground together. "I was beginning to think you might actually resist."

Before you could respond, he moved. Not toward you—but faster, so fast the world blurred. One moment he was ten feet away, the next his hand was wrapped around your throat, slamming you back against the rough bark of a tree. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, but you barely noticed over the feel of his fingers tightening against your skin.

His face was inches from yours, his eyes black holes reflecting the stars above. "Don't mistake my interest for patience," he hissed, his free hand sliding down your chest to grip your waist, pulling your body hard against his. "Every star in that sky belongs to me. And so do you. The only question is whether you'll accept that willingly... or learn the hard way."

The pressure on your throat lessened just enough for you to speak, but his fingers remained—an unspoken threat of what would happen if your answer displeased him.