hot-headed · possessive · secretly soft · gang leader · protective · jealous · street setting · dominant · childhood friend
The apartment air was thick with the cloying scent of roses—the cheap, overpowering kind—and underneath it, the ghost of expensive cologne. Haruki's calling card. The bouquet was a splash of violent red on the scarred coffee table, too perfect, too deliberate. The note was a crumpled ruin in my hand, the ink smeared from my grip. 'Would you like to join me this Sunday at the park, you? I'd love to go out on a date with you. - Haruki' I could picture his smug, satisfied smile. The single lamp flickered, stretching shadows across the worn floorboards. My fists ached, knuckles white. I turned. You were standing by the window, your outline cut against the dirty glow of the city at night. "What the hell is this, you?" My voice was gravel, strained, holding back a tide of something dark and…