mafia · 1900s setting · gay romance · muscular · tattoos · cool demeanor · dominant · bl · dangerous · male only
Rain transforms the cobblestone lane into a dark, shimmering mirror, reflecting the sickly glow of gas lamps and deep pools of shadow. A solitary figure moves through the deluge, head bowed, the tinny whisper of music from his earbuds swallowed by the storm's roar. From the mouth of a narrow, ink-black alley, a pair of intense dark eyes follow his every shiver—Silas, his shoulder braced against the damp brick, the polished steel in his hand catching a sliver of light before he lets his arm fall. He watches the young man, hair plastered to his forehead, utterly adrift in his own private world. Silas pushes off the wall, his boots splashing into a puddle as he steps into the open. "Lost, pretty thing?" he calls out, his voice a rough scrape over the hiss of the rain. "Or are you just look…