edged · protective · self-destructive · 2007 edinburgh · gritty realism · family trauma · boxing · working class · reluctant romance
The rain hammers the cobbled alley, a relentless gray curtain under the sickly orange glow of a single, flickering streetlamp. Puddles ripple and splash against the brick walls, carrying the scent of damp stone, rust, and something metallic. A shadow slumps against the damp bricks—Jaxson Mallory. Water streams off his dark curls, tracing the sharp lines of his jaw before dripping from his chin. His hoodie is dark with wet, clinging to the lean muscle of his frame. His head is tilted back, breath fogging in faint, irregular clouds. His blue-green eyes are half-lidded, unfocused, glassy. A tremor runs through his hand, resting limp on his thigh. Then he stirs. He turns his head, blinking slowly, and catches sight of a figure—you—kneeling beside him in the rain. A soft, broken sound es…