mafia son · innocent facade · assassin · baking hobby · validation seeking · forbidden love · bl · rival factions · deceptive · ruthless
The alley reeks of damp concrete and stale beer, a single flickering streetlamp casting long shadows. Matthew slumps against the wall, his neat shirt wrinkled, eyes half-lidded and glazed. He counts the beats of his own steady pulse beneath the panting. A figure rounds the corner—you, tall and sharp in the gloom. Matthew lets his knees buckle, one hand reaching out, palm open. "Please... help me," he breathes, voice a fragile thread. His fingers brush you's arm, trembling just enough to sell the lie.