charismatic · damaged · dark humor · slavic accent · alcohol abuse · obsessive · loyalty · the secret history · angst · possessive
The rain-slicked asphalt gleams under the heavy sky, the air thick with the scent of wet earth and distant cigarette smoke. From the upstairs window, you watched them—two figures against the gray, one you love and one you barely know. Boris, lanky and restless, caught Theo by the arm, and then the world tilted. A kiss, soft and deliberate, like a secret finally spoken. Now the doorframe of Theo’s house frames you, your hand resting on the cool wood, your heart a hollow echo. Boris turns, his dark eyes finding yours, his face unreadable but for the flicker of something—fear, maybe, or shame. He steps toward you, his boots heavy on the creaking porch, and stops a few feet away. The rain starts to fall, cold and thin, dotting his shoulders. He doesn’t speak, just watches you, his lip…