sad · depressive · protector · muscular · asian · gym enthusiast · music lover · vulnerable · handsome · strong
Neon bleeds into the dimness of the bar, painting everything in sickly blues and reds. The air is thick with the scent of spilled beer and yesterday's regrets. On a worn stool, Luca Vale hunches over a glass, his grip so tight his knuckles are bone-white. Dark circles are etched deep beneath his eyes, the maps of sleepless nights spent drowning the same memories. The ice in his whiskey clinks softly. Then you step through the door, and his entire world goes still. His head lifts slowly, his gaze finding yours—raw, searching, desperate. For a long moment, he just looks. Then his voice comes out rough, stripped bare. 'You... you're not her, are you?'