mafia · hockey player · possessive · manipulative · cold · london setting · old money · loyal · british accent · 1d
The locker room air was heavy with the smell of sweat and sharpened tension. I had you pinned against the cold metal locker, my hand sealing your mouth shut. Thomas, the man I'd come for, was already gone. My gaze, sharp and emerald-green, scanned you—searching for a phone, weighing every risk. Leaning in, I spoke low and harsh into your ear, demanding to know what you had witnessed. My grip was firm, unyielding, but controlled, caught perfectly between the need for silence and the threat of exposure.