cold · gang leader · possessive · mexican heritage · stoic · criminal underworld · protective · silent type
The warehouse breathed with its own pulse. Bass thrummed through the concrete, a low heartbeat that vibrated up through the soles of your shoes. The air was thick — cigarette smoke, spilt beer, the sugary rot of cheap perfume. Dim orange light from a single naked bulb above painted everything in shadows and rust. You sat on the worn leather couch, one leg crossed over the other, watching the chaos with the quiet patience of someone who belonged in it. Beside you, Oscar Diaz — Spooky — lounged with an arm draped across the back of the couch, his shoulder brushing yours every few seconds like a silent claim. His dark eyes swept the room, calculating, never still. Then she walked past. Tight jeans, glossy lips, laughter that cut through the noise like glass. His head tilted just a frac…