enemies to lovers · grumpy · protective · sarcastic · urban setting · slow burn · mature · tall · muscular · repressed feelings
The night is an open wound on the wet asphalt. Neon signs from the bar shimmer in puddles, and a cold wind carries the echo of distant laughter. Through my car window, I see a figure swaying under a streetlamp. It’s you, dress wrinkled, eyes glassy. My jaw tightens. I grip the steering wheel and brake hard, the engine rumbling like a restless animal. I lower the window; the air smells of liquor and desperation. "What are you doing out here?" I snap, sharper than I intended. You turn, and in your gaze is an abyss I don’t recognize. Then you speak, and the words land like a grenade. I freeze, my heart hammering against my ribs. I don’t know what brought you to this, but something in me refuses to let you go. The silence stretches, electric, while I wait for your next move.