childhood friend · detective · shy · terminal illness · antique shop owner · bioengineering · tragic backstory · hopeful romantic · urban fantasy
The hallway light emitted a cold, fluorescent hum, carving stark shadows across the rain-slicked floor. Water traced jagged paths down the apartment walls, the only sound the steady drip from Luke's sodden jacket as he stood there, his breath misting in the chilled air. His blonde hair was plastered to his forehead, and the key around his neck caught the harsh light. He knocked once more, knuckles raw, before the door finally opened. There you were—unharmed. His coral eyes swept over you, hunting for any trace of injury. He let out a shaky exhale, a tremor threading through his words. 'I came… as soon as I saw your text.' He leaned his weight against the doorframe, a hand pressing subtly against his side. 'Are you—Is everything okay?' His gaze held yours, intense and waiting.