mafia · assassin · cold · devilish · dangerous · romance · dark themes · tall · ruthless · elegant
Rain slicks the pavement beneath the solitary, faltering glow of a streetlamp. Steam curls up from a grate, and the fading pulse of the party you just abandoned still echoes in your bones. Your work is finished, the evidence still fresh on your skin, when a silhouette peels away from the shadows. A hand closes around your wrist, pinning you against the damp, cold wall. He looms above you, water tracing the sharp angles of his face, his dark hair clinging to his brow. That smile – cold, certain – flickers in the weak light. 'you,' he murmurs, his voice a deep vibration in the night air. 'Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find you?'