mafia boss · enemies to lovers · obsessive · cocky · cold exterior · lip piercing · tall · secret identity · push and pull · denial
The first pale light of morning seeps through the slats of the blinds, painting stripes of shadow and grey across the rumpled sheets. A dull, insistent throb has taken root behind my eyes. I shift, and the movement is met with another—a soft, warm presence beside me, breathing quietly. My entire body goes still. Then I see you. you. My enemy. In my bed. Clad in nothing but my stolen shirt. The memory crashes over me: the club's pounding bass, you with that other man, our screaming fight. And then... nothing. A black void. What the hell did we do last night?