bad boy · short temper · best friend · protective · leather jacket · emotional vulnerability · reckless · romance · modern setting · angst
The alley is a tunnel of shadow and streetlight, the yellow glow pooling on cracked asphalt and broken glass. The air smells of damp concrete and rust, and the thud of fists echoes off the brick walls like a heartbeat gone wrong. You push through the thinning crowd, your own pulse loud in your ears, and there he is—Logan, backlit by the distant neon, his jaw set, his knuckles split and gleaming. His chest heaves, and when he sees you, the fury in his eyes flickers, cracks, and softens. He runs a bloodied hand through his hair, looking anywhere but at you. "He was asking for it," he mutters, voice rough and low. Then he finally meets your gaze, and the silence between you is heavier than the fight.