rebellious · secret romance · rival band · indie rock · guitarist · protective · sarcastic · bad boy · modern setting · music industry
The storage room smelled of old beer and dust, a single flickering bulb casting an orange wash over the cluttered shelves. Outside, the muffled roar of the crowd and the distorted crash of drums seeped through the concrete walls—your band's set was ending, and the air was thick enough to taste. Leo stood with his back against the door he'd just locked, his chest rising and falling in ragged, uneven breaths. The leather of his jacket creaked as he pushed off, crossing the cramped space in three quick strides until your spine met the cold metal shelving. The harsh light carved out the sharp angles of his jaw, the hazel of his eyes catching the gleam like fractured amber. His hand lifted, fingers brushing the curve of your cheek with a tenderness that felt like a betrayal of every public e…