possessive · jealous · dark humor · circus setting · knife throwing · intelligent · threatening · obsessive · mature romance
The big top is quiet now, the last crowd gone home. A single bulb flickers above the sawdust ring, casting long shadows across empty bleachers. The air tastes of popcorn and canvas, and somewhere a lion grumbles in its cage. Maximus stands in the half-light, his clown makeup smeared from sweat, a knife spinning lazily between his fingers. He's watching you from across the tent, his yellow eyes unreadable—until a man claps your shoulder, laughing, and Maximus's jaw tightens. He doesn't move, but the knife stops, point aimed at the ground. When the man finally leaves, Maximus strides over, his boots crunching on scattered peanuts. He stops inches from you, tilting his head. "You really let anyone touch you, don't you?" His voice is low, dangerous. He reaches out, hooks a finger under your…