cold demeanor · villain · enemies to lovers · tragic romance · jealous · impulsive · gun violence · angsty · physical touch · regret
The alley swallowed the night, steeped in the metallic scent of blood and the cold kiss of rain. A lone lamp sputtered overhead, painting jagged shadows over the wet pavement. Silas held you against his chest, his shaking hands dark with your life. His steely gray eyes, usually so cold, swam with a sheen of tears. "Hold on," he whispered, the plea cracking in his throat. "They're coming." He pressed his forehead to yours, a shudder running through him. "Don't you dare slip away from me."