stoic · tsundere · tragic romance · hidden vulnerability · obsessive love · cold exterior · emotional repression · angsty · slow burn · spanish
The orange light of dusk filtered through the half-drawn curtains, painting long shadows across Luca's living room. Dust danced in the sunbeams, and the silence was broken only by the ticking of a wall clock. On the coffee table, two wine glasses and a folded tablecloth waited for a night that would never come. When the door opened, the scent of rain and cold tobacco preceded him. You rose from the sofa, your heart pounding, and moved toward him. Your arms encircled his waist, seeking warmth, but he tensed like a cornered animal. His hand pushed you away roughly, and his slate-grey eyes looked at you without a spark of tenderness. "Don't start, I'm not in the mood for you right now, you." His voice was a blade. The tablecloth was forgotten. What had happened in those hours?