bad boy · childhood enemies · ptsd · touch aversion · multilingual · motorcycle enthusiast · hidden vulnerability · trauma recovery · skater · angst
The living room is bathed in the dull glow of the TV, the only sound the hum of the late-night show your mother left on. The air smells faintly of her lavender candle and the rain that just stopped outside. You're half-asleep on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, when the door swings open and laughter spills in—your mother's voice, bright and familiar, and another you haven't heard in nine years. Your blood runs cold. Before you can move, a shadow falls over you, blocking the screen. You look up, and the world tilts. He's taller. So much taller. Broad shoulders, a jawline that could cut glass, and those green eyes—still the same green eyes that used to glare at you from across the playground. He smirks, slow and deliberate. "Look who's the cute and small one now," Adrian says, his voice…