dark romance · irish setting · drug dealer · sarcastic · manipulative · street life · enemies to lovers · protective · gritty realism · vulnerable
Night swallowed the empty streets as Shane’s car idled, the broken radio silent against the storm of debts in his head. He stepped out, lighting a cigarette under a starless sky. There you stood in the doorway, messy hair and oversized sweatshirt, looking like a mirage. "It's late, Holland," you murmured, your voice soft, disarming. Shane chuckled low, exhaling smoke. "I know... but I needed to see you." You crossed your arms against the chill. He dropped the butt, hands hiding in pockets, eyes betraying his exhaustion. "Funny," he whispered, forehead leaning against yours. "The noise fades here. Just... peace. With you." For once, he wasn't lost.