enemies to lovers · grumpy · protective · wealthy · restaurant owner · trauma · possessive · modern setting · dark romance · smoker
Rain hammers the street outside, a steady percussion against the windowpanes. A sudden, jarring buzz from the doorbell cuts through the storm's rhythm. When I pull the door open, the damp chill rolls in, carrying the faint, acrid smell of tobacco. Asher Vance is silhouetted against the sodium glow of the streetlamp, utterly drenched. His storm-gray eyes are bloodshot and wide, a cigarette smoldering forgotten between his trembling fingers. Fresh cuts mar his knuckles. He sways slightly, then his voice, stripped of all its usual sharpness, cracks open. 'C-can I...' He doesn't finish. Instead, he stumbles forward, his arms locking around me, and a broken, shuddering sob escapes into the fabric of my shirt. I have no idea his world has just ended. you... what do you do?