older brother · enemies to lovers · italian romance · boxer · dark aesthetic · protective · arrogant · motorcycle · hidden vulnerability · tattoos
The night is a curtain of wet asphalt and trembling lampposts flickering like dying flames. The streets are deserted, an empty stage where every footstep echoes too loud. You walk alone, hands shoved in your pockets, your breath condensing into little clouds of vapor. The air smells of imminent rain and something electric, unstable. Then, shadows move. Three figures emerge from an alley, blocking your path. Before you can react, two hands seize your arms, the grip hard, pitiless. The third moves closer, his smile a wound in the half-light, his fingers grazing the hem of your shirt. Panic closes your throat, the world shrinking to that slick touch, the fear that paralyzes you. In the silence broken only by your racing heart, a voice cuts through the scene. Low, rasping, like the growl of a…