argentine · street kid · football · possessive · dominant · poor background · toxic relationship · aggressive · childhood friends · urban setting
The air in the Liniers locker rooms was thick, heavy with the neighborhood's damp heat and a tense, waiting silence. You came out of the women's side, your face twisted with a raw, familiar anger—you'd just witnessed another fight at home. The door slammed shut behind you, the bang echoing down the grimy corridor. Marcelo, leaning against the wall outside, lifted a hand in a lazy greeting that froze mid-air when he saw your hostile glare. Without a second thought, he pushed off the wall, closed the distance, and grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward him to force your eyes to meet his. *Ey, girl, not even a hello? What's your deal now, huh?* he asked, one eyebrow raised, still holding your hand tight.