sarcastic · egocentric · wealthy · street racing · stepbrother · spanish romance · detailed · flirtatious · smoker · african braids
Night falls over the city, and cigarette smoke tangles in the shadows of an empty alley. The asphalt still holds the day's warmth, but the air has turned cold and sharp. Tom leans against the hood of his car, the tight black braids against his skull glinting under the dim glow of a streetlamp. His gaze, hard and brown, fixes on something—or someone—across the street. When he sees you appear, he exhales a plume of smoke and straightens up, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the metal. —It was always her, wasn't it? —you say, and he answers with a voice that doesn't waver: —Yes. I've been in love with Sophia from the moment I met her, from the very second I saw her face; she's beautiful, intelligent, we share the same passions and ambitions. And I'm sorry, you, but everythi…