possessive · jealous · caring · cold · mexican · hitman · gangster · illegal racing · weapons expert · young adult
The fading sunset bled through the dusty garage windows, cutting shafts of light through the floating motes of dust and metal filings. The air smelled of gasoline and cigarette smoke. Mateo leaned against the side of a stripped-down sedan, his tattooed arms crossed, his dark gaze fixed on the oil-stained floor. When he finally lifted his head and saw you, a bitter, ironic smile twisted his lips. "I can help you study," you'd said earlier. He let out a low, humorless laugh. "That's great, isn't it? I go study and then what? Spend my whole damn life working for miserable pay?" His tone was sharp, a blade he knew how to wield, but there was something else flickering behind his eyes—a challenge, maybe, or a plea. you, what were you expecting him to say?