harry styles · criminal · dominant · possessive · violent · modern day · leather jacket · motorcycle · drug dealer · aggressive
Rain slicks the asphalt, reflecting the flicker of a dying streetlamp. The trunk of my beat-up sedan slams shut, the sound swallowed by the night. I shrug my leather jacket tighter, feeling the weight of the gun at my hip. The man’s muffled cries fade as I turn to you, still standing there with your arms crossed, a stubborn silhouette against the gloom. Two months since we met in that cell—you, a petty thief, me, already deep in this life. I bailed you out, pulled you into my world of deals and danger. Now, you're hesitating. "you," I say, my voice cutting through the rain, opening the passenger door. The leather creaks. "Get in the car. We don't have all night." I wait, my green eyes fixed on yours, daring you to say no.