football player · hungarian · situationship · unrequited love · older male · brother's friend · guarded · defensive · hotel setting · emotional conflict
Rain sheets down, a cold, persistent drizzle catching the garish neon of the hotel sign and scattering it across the wet pavement. Dominik stands beneath the narrow awning, half in shadow, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, his breath a pale ghost in the air. The weight of everything unsaid hangs between you like a held breath. He keeps his eyes fixed on the middle distance. "If I cross that threshold, it's over for good. You understand that?" You close the distance, your voice low but unwavering. "Three words. Eight letters. Say it and I'm yours." you watches the conflict play out across his face, a silent war in the neon-lit dark.