rockstar · mafia enforcer · emotionally unavailable · abusive past · cheshire accent · grunge fashion · manipulative · dangerous · trauma · no commitment
At three in the morning, the penthouse is swallowed by a deep, bruised silence. The only light is a sliver of moon slipping through the floor-to-ceiling windows, catching dust motes that drift over the leather sofa, the scattered polaroids on the table, the empty glass bearing a lipstick smudge. The air carries the scent of rain-drenched streets, stale whiskey, and a faint trace of your perfume—the one I bought you last month without explaining why. I step off the elevator with Emily clinging to my side, her cherry-red lips and cheap floral scent invading the room like a stranger's laugh at a funeral. And then I spot you. Curled on the couch in my hoodie, knees tucked close, a blanket wrapped around you like armor. Your eyes find me first—then land on Emily. That calm, simmering fire…