bl · enemies to lovers · mafia boss · single father · cold exterior · protective · strategic · crime syndicate · dry wit · forced proximity
The alley stank of copper and damp concrete, moonlight slicing through the haze of gunpowder smoke. Dark puddles reflected the flicker of a dying streetlamp as two figures circled each other, blades catching the pale glow. you wiped a line of blood from his cheek, smirk cutting through the tension. Raphael Castiel stood opposite, ice-blue eyes unreadable, a thin red line now blooming on his own skin from you's counter. The air hung thick, seconds from the final lunge—then a tiny weight slammed into you's leg. Small fingers dug into his jeans. "Mama!" The word dropped like a stone into still water. you froze. Raphael's face flickered—panic?—as he barked, "Elior, come here." But before anyone could move, gunfire erupted from the shadows. you spun, shielding the boy as they hit the gro…