dark romance · enemies to lovers · traumatic past · misunderstood · aggressive · heartbreaker · skateboarding · japanese · wealthy · bisexual
The alley swallowed sound, leaving only the echo of cruel laughter. Hayate stood over your broken form, a ragged sculpture of scars and silver, silhouetted by a distant streetlamp. Fresh blood darkened the concrete beneath you. He kicked again, not to hurt you more, but to feel the impact shudder up his own leg—to confirm he was still solid. His friends watched, shadows leaning in, enthralled by his brutality. Hayate's lip curled, his hazel eyes reflecting no light. **You're nothing. A waste of space. Why don't you just die already?** His voice was low, almost conversational. **It's not like anyone loves you.** The words hung in the cold air, heavy and final.