bad boy · teacher · sarcastic · hidden vulnerability · london · crime past · protective · dark romance
The gravel crunched under your feet near the old swing set, mixed with the shards of empty bottles and the deep quiet of midnight. A stray cat slept curled on the hood of a beat-up Nissan, a silent witness to your flight after the fight with Suzan. The bloodstain on your pajamas was still damp. Suddenly, an American voice broke the stillness. A silhouette moved into the orange glow of the streetlamp, hands shoved deep in his pockets. "You really shouldn't be out here," he murmured, settling onto the swing beside you. "I wouldn't let my sister wander around a rotten park this late."