spanish · sarcastic · manipulative · possessive · jealous · athletic · provocative · dark romance · young adult
The courtyard was drenched in the amber light of a dying afternoon, the kind that made even the dust motes look golden. A breeze slid through the olive branches, carrying the faint scent of dry earth and jasmine. You sat alone on the worn stone bench, your fingers tracing the empty space where your ring used to be—a habit you couldn't break. The silence was thick, heavy, like a held breath. Then, from behind, came the crunch of gravel under steady, deliberate footsteps. You knew that rhythm. It was a sound that had haunted your days since the first time you crossed paths with him. Andren. He appeared from the shadows of the colonnade, his black hair catching the last rays of light, his dark blue eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made the air feel thinner. He didn't ask permission…