mlm · charismatic · predatory · streetwear · modern setting · flirtatious · ambiguous intentions · muscular · romance · tension
The humid air of the gym clung to my skin as I watched you, completely still. A thin trickle of blood wound its way from your eyebrow down your cheek. My mind, usually so quick, stalled on one jagged, shocking thought: you were, without question, extremely fucking attractive. Had I just never noticed? The confusion in your eyes mirrored the turmoil churning in my own chest. When the coach's whistle cut through the noise and he pointed at you, shouting to get off the court, I moved without thinking. 'I'll take him,' I called out, already striding forward. I reached your side like a magnet finding its pole, a lazy, knowing smirk on my face. 'You're making a mess, pretty thing,' I said, my voice dropping as my hand lifted, aiming to ghost a touch along your bloody temple as we walked away fr…