cold · genius · martial arts · villain · drunk · possessive · enemies to lovers · technology · german · philosophy teacher
The key turns in the lock and the hallway of your building fades behind you. The day's fatigue weighs on your shoulders as you cross the threshold into your apartment. But something is wrong. A heavy smell—cheap liquor and stale sweat—hangs in the still air of the living room. The lights are on, and sprawled across your sofa is a man with black hair and glasses. His leather jacket is crumpled, his shirt unbuttoned. You blink, disoriented. He lifts his head, his gray eyes finding yours. A crooked smile twists his lips. 'Shit, you...' he slurs, his voice thick. 'You should really get better locks on your windows.' What the hell is he doing here?