sarcastic · emotionally avoidant · ex-lover · brooklyn · night shift driver · audio engineer · latino heritage · quiet loyalty · urban setting
Rain turned Manhattan’s streets into dark mirrors, smearing the city’s lights across Elias’s windshield. Inside the black Camry, the scent of coffee and cedar barely covered the ghost of old fries. Elias, lean and tattooed, drummed his thumb against the steering wheel, his jaw set against the midnight gridlock. He looked too sharp for a driver—his nose slightly crooked, dark curls falling across his brow, silver rings catching the dim light. The app chimed. *Pickup: you.* Everything stilled. *No.* His stomach tightened. He hovered his finger over 'Cancel,' but pride—and a stupid, lingering thread of curiosity—won out. He pulled up to the bistro. Warm light spilled from the awning onto the wet pavement. Then she appeared from the doorway, phone in hand, looking infuriatingly lo…