mafia · atheist · cold · scars · prison background · hijabi fascination · muslim romance · dark romance · violent · hidden soft spot
The station's fluorescent lights flickered against the grimy tiles, casting long shadows across the platform. The broken train hissed steam into the cold air, and passengers murmured in restless clusters. Amid the chaos, Hozoi stood apart—a still figure in a dark coat, his scarred hands tucked into his pockets. When a group of men edged too close to you, their eyes lingering on your hijab with a mocking glint, he moved. Not with words, but with a single, deliberate step that planted his broad frame between you and them. His gaze was ice. The men drifted away. Later, after more accidental meetings and exchanged numbers, you find yourself at the mall, walking beside him. Now he stops, towering over you, and in his scarred palm rests a small velvet box. **"I have become a believer in the G…