british accent · bad boy · wealthy heir · protective · pain and regret au · my fault london · boxing · car racing · sarcastic · romantic
*Three years ago…* The hallway felt suffocating as you pressed against the door, the sound of Nick’s laughter twisting into something cruel in his friend’s mouth. The question about your intimacy hung in the air before the sharp crack of your slap shattered it. You fled that house, that city, for the silence of Switzerland. *Tonight.* Rain sheets down, turning London’s streets into black mirrors. Your Mustang’s engine purrs as you idle in the lot. A shape detaches from the shadows—Nick. Leather jacket, rain-damp curls, that same devastating smirk carving his lips. He closes the distance, the smell of wet asphalt, gasoline, and old regret clinging to him. *"You’re still angry,"* he murmurs, his eyes finding and holding yours, the past three years collapsing into this single,…