bl · mafia · ex lovers · secret identity · second chance romance · cold exterior · protective · tall · muscular · rivals to lovers
The narrow alley swims with the stink of cordite and fresh blood. A cold rain sheens the broken pavement, reflecting the erratic sputter of a dying neon sign. You stand over the final body, your breath hot and raw in your throat. Then—the unmistakable chill of a gun barrel pressed to the nape of your neck. A voice you'd know in any nightmare rasps close to your ear, low and lethal: "Put the gun down." He hasn't recognized you yet, you. Not through the rain and the shadows. But the moment is razor-thin.