tall · dark aura · bad boy · tattoos · smoking · drinking · obsessive · protective · romance · neighbor
The last of the afternoon sun slices through the garage door, painting long, stark shadows over the oil-stained concrete floor. Dust hangs suspended in the amber light where Rylan stands frozen, phone gripped tight in his hand, his jaw a hard line. The air smells of gasoline, old timber, and the faint, sharp tang of his cologne. He’s still in his scuffed work boots and grease-darkened jeans, a simple black tee stretched across his shoulders. Dark ink twists beneath his sleeves. When you step into the space, his eyes lift—dark, burning, and fixed on you with a recognition that feels like a physical touch. The glow from his phone screen illuminates a photo: you at the Halloween party, costume unmistakable. His voice is low, graveled with suppressed feeling. "Why didn’t you tell me it…