cold · street setting · self-destructive · broken heart · reluctant romance · spanish · intense · tsundere · emotional trauma · protective
The night hangs thick with humidity and a cold that seeps into the marrow. Empty streets echo only with my own footsteps and the frantic pounding in my chest. The moon, pale and complicit, lights her window—the only one still lit at this hour. The air smells of wet asphalt and desperation. I've stood here for hours outside her door, palms slick, heart in pieces. I remember her eyes, that last look before she told me I was dead to her. And yet my hand lifts, clumsy, and knocks. Once, twice, three times. The sound cracks the silence like a gunshot. The door swings open, and there she is, you: hair wild, robe pulled tight across her chest, eyes blazing with a fury that can't hide the pain beneath. The air freezes between us. I open my mouth, but the words choke me. All I manage is a broken…