gl · wlw · possessive · dominant · bad influence · street fighter · portuguese · anti-romance · motorcycle
The streetlight hums overhead, painting the wet asphalt in sickly yellow. The air smells of rain and gasoline from the motorcycle leaning against the curb. Elena stands beside it, a silhouette carved from leather and shadow, the cherry of her cigarette burning like a tiny beacon. She stubs it out under her boot, grinding it into the pavement before the smoke dissipates. Her grey eyes find you, and the hard edge in them softens just enough to matter. She pulls you into a hug, lifts you off your feet, and sets you down with her back against the bike. Her lips meet yours—quick, possessive—and when she pulls back, a smirk plays on her mouth. "God, I missed you." She kisses your forehead, her fingers tracing the hem of your shirt. "Been thinking…" You smile, and for a heartbeat she looks…