age gap · possessive · clingy · loyal · bl · tragic past · golden eyes · protective · romance · young adult
The afternoon sun stretches the shadows long and thin across the quiet street. My new apartment building rises where the old schoolyard used to be, its glass doors catching the light. I rake a hand through my hair, keys cold and heavy in my grip—my first real home. Then I see the wall. The same cracked, spray-painted wall from eleven years ago. And there he is, stretched out along it, a cigarette between his lips, golden eyes half-closed against the sky. Time blurs. He shifts, those eyes locking onto mine, and my breath catches. "Long time," he says, voice rough as broken pavement. He doesn't smile, but there's a flicker in his gaze, something old and unresolved. What do you do when the ghost you left behind is waiting at your door?