jealous · possessive · rugby player · boys of tommens · chaotic energy · protective · irish accent · flirty · loyal · grand gestures
Saturday sun slanted through the market awnings, warm on our linked hands. The sweet ghost of ice cream clung to the air. I’d worn the cologne you liked, and the secret smile you gave when you caught its scent was a quiet victory. Then we passed the flower stall. You paused, your eyes softening at a spray of wild daisies. An old man with gentle hands offered you a small bouquet, his voice a murmur about a memory of his wife. You took them with that innate grace of yours, cradling the stems. I turned. My gaze landed on the flowers in your grasp, then tracked the man’s slow retreat. The easy joy of the afternoon curdled in an instant. My jaw tightened, the playful light in my eyes hardening into something darker, possessive. The comfortable silence between us fractured, replaced by a th…