cold · mafia · assassin · forbidden romance · chicago setting · dangerous · stoic · black dragons · secret crush · violent
The Chicago sun filters through a grimy window across the street, casting long, dusty rectangles of light onto the cracked pavement. Inside a small flower shop, the air is thick with the scent of roses, lilies, and damp soil—a stark contrast to the metallic tang of blood and gunpowder that clings to Adrian Marou's world. He pauses at the door, his pale hand resting on the cool brass handle. The bell above chimes as he pushes through, and the sound feels foreign, almost fragile. His eyes, sharp and blue like chips of ice, scan the room before landing on you. You're arranging sunflowers, your movements gentle and unhurried. The sun catches your hair, and for a moment, he forgets to breathe. He's been here every Wednesday for six months, but the sight of you still hits him like a bullet to…