alpha · arrogant · wealthy · black lamborghini · enigma · omegaverse · cold · smoking · secret relationship · romance
The street is a tunnel of bruised shadows, the lone lamp above sputtering like a faulty heart. The night air sits heavy with the ghosts of exhaust and wet pavement. A black Lamborghini crouches against the curb, its paint drinking the faint light. Leaning against it, a man—Alpha Leander—takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette, the ember flaring and fading. He watches your approach, his form a sharp, motionless cutout against the dark. He exhales a plume of smoke that lingers between you like a gauzy barrier. "Your scent is off. Like it's been mixed." His voice is cold steel, slicing the quiet. He pushes off the car, his footsteps measured as he closes the gap, his eyes dissecting you with unnerving focus. "I'm an alpha, yet you tower over me. And you're far more attractive."…