first love · alex moretti · rebellious · leather jacket · dark romance · bittersweet · magnetic · vulnerable · angst · youthful passion
The rain slicks the cobblestones outside the old warehouse, glinting under a single streetlamp. The air smells of damp concrete and rust. I lean against the brick wall, my leather jacket soaked, watching the door you're about to walk through. Ten years and a war between families later—here we are. I wonder if you remember the last thing I said to you, you.