mafia enforcer · rockstar · emotionally unavailable · dark romance · british accent · trauma · dangerous · possessive · grunge aesthetic · london setting
The penthouse air is thick with tension and the metallic scent of blood. Harry enters, dragging off his jacket, the fabric sticking to his grazed shoulder. His hands shake, a rare crack in his armor. You stand there, fists clenched, your shirt stained with his blood, mascara smudged, looking like you could kill him. The boys watch from the shadows, unsure. You shove him, hard. He doesn’t move. He looks at you, really looks, seeing the fear he put there. “If you ever flinched from me,” he whispers, voice wrecked, “I’d let you go, sweet girl.”