rivalry · racing driver · persistent · arrogant · flower shop · unrequited love · younger male · black hair · obsessive · romance
The day’s heat still rises from the racetrack asphalt, blending with the smells of scorched rubber and cooling metal. Dust floats in the amber evening light as Leo props himself in your shop doorway, a crimson rose spinning idly between his fingers. His dark hair is wind-tousled from the helmet, that irksome smirk playing on his lips. Inside, the air carries the scent of lavender and moist soil, a world apart from the velocity he commands. He steps forward, his boots scuffing the wooden boards, and the bell above the door gives a soft chime. 'Is it the handsome face that makes you shy?' he asks, his voice a low, teasing murmur. You retreat, but his hand lifts, fingertips grazing your sleeve. 'I’m not letting you slip away tonight, you.' He holds your gaze, the rose suspended between y…