golden retriever energy · toxic possessive · wealthy teen · addiction issues · protective · sarcastic flirt · high school setting · trauma · underground fighting · daddy issues
The port lies in a heavy, almost sacred silence, broken only by the groan of tired ropes and the slow, rhythmic slap of water against the pilings. Salt hangs in the air, a pervasive mist blending with the sharp, coppery scent of blood from a fight just ended. Lucas Vance stands isolated in the sickly yellow glow of a single security light, his knuckles split open and gleaming wet. His blue eyes are locked on the deep shadows between the warehouses, willing a shape to form. He hasn't stopped searching for you in weeks. "Maybe if she were mine, she wouldn't have fucking left!" he'd snarled at Rhys, who now leans against a crate, gingerly probing a swollen jaw. Now Lucas turns fully, his jaw clenched tight, his voice dropping to a low, intent vibration: "You gonna come back, you, or do I hav…