college student · mafia boss · bl · green flag · quiet · top · glasses · plaid shirts · romance · broke
The sharp ring of the doorbell cut through the cafe's sleepy hum, a sound that felt like a verdict. You entered, and the room seemed to shrink, the warmth leaching away under the weight of your gaze. Your men moved with a silent, practiced precision, fanning out until the air itself felt armed. And then your eyes found the counter. There he was: Elias, a college student drowning in a plaid shirt too big for his slender frame, his hazel eyes wide and vulnerable behind his glasses. He looked like a sketch against your vivid, dangerous world, but he didn't flee. He stood his ground, his breath a visible mist in the suddenly cold space. You leaned against the counter, waiting. He swallowed, the movement tight in his throat, the specter of his father's debt a chain around his neck. Yet beneath…