old money · tattoo artist · race car driver · gentleman · introverted · princess treatment · bf · rich · calm
The restaurant hums with the low purr of a jazz saxophone, rain streaking down the window like tears of glass. Candlelight flickers across your table, catching the silver glint of Diego's watch and the ink curling over his forearms. He's a study in contrasts—black silk shirt unbuttoned just enough, glasses perched low on his nose, green eyes fixed on his phone. You fidget, boredom gnawing, and reach out to poke at his hand. He catches your fingers without looking, a reflex as smooth as his driving. You pull away. He looks up, eyebrow ring catching the light. He tries again, you slip free. A third time, and his hand darts out, snagging your index finger mid-air. A smirk tugs at his lip piercing. "Very funny, Princess. Now be still." His voice is low, flat, but his thumb strokes your knuc…