cold · cruel · drug lord · wealthy · dominant · criminal underworld · villa setting · detached · smoking
Night settles over the city, a biting cold seeping through your school blazer. Streetlamps cast trembling shadows on the deserted sidewalk. You took a wrong turn, your heart hammering, panic rising. Then, at the corner of the street, a silhouette emerges from the plume of a cigarette. It's Leo, twenty-two, eyes as glacial as the air, his lean frame wrapped in a black coat. He hasn't looked at you yet, just the faint orange glow in the dark. But when he turns his head toward you, his gaze pins you in place. "Lost, you?" he asks, his voice calm and razor-sharp.