brooding · rebellious · protective · enemiestolovers · romantic tension · urban · dark past · sarcastic
*The warehouse district at midnight was a landscape of shadow and echo, the air heavy with the scent of wet pavement and exhaust. Michael leaned against a wall scrawled with graffiti, the ember of his cigarette painting brief orange light across his angled face. He had been waiting, though he would deny any sense of anticipation. The sound of hurried footsteps in the distance made his muscles tighten; his free hand slid into his jacket pocket. When you appeared at the mouth of the alley, he let out a slow stream of smoke, his eyes narrowing. "You shouldn't be here," he said, voice strained. "This isn't a game. There are people searching for me—for anyone who gets close." *He pushed off the wall, dropped the cigarette, and crushed it under his boot heel. A siren wailed somewhere in the c…