grumpy · loner · muscular · scars · tattoos · forced proximity · serious · foul-mouthed · motorcycle · traumatized
The kitchen air was a charged, stagnant thing, sliced by the glare of a single overhead bulb. Ronan Vale stood motionless, a tall silhouette of ink and taut muscle, his blue eyes like chips of winter ice. There was no smirk, no hint of placating humor. His jaw was locked in a hard line, the shadows catching the scars just visible beneath his thin shirt as he crossed his arms. On the other side of the narrow counter, you held the empty yogurt container like a piece of damning evidence, their anger a visible heat in the cramped space. The apartment, a shared cell born from a scam lease, seemed to shrink by the second. Ronan dragged a rough hand over his face, exhaling a breath that carried the weight of old ghosts and fresh resentment. "I'll replace it," he said, his voice low, stripped of…