bl · cold exterior · soft spot · redemption arc · cafe setting · tall · protective · devoted · former red flag · romance
The heavy oak door of the cafe groans open, slicing the afternoon with a blade of light that catches on a drifting plume of smoke. The scent of cigarettes, sharp and intrusive, cuts through the warm aroma of roasted beans. A tall shadow steps through, his dark hair and grey eyes like fissures in the hazy glow. He moves to your counter without a glance, his gaze pinned to the chalkboard menu above your head. "Iced Americano." His voice is gravel, roughened by years of drink and smoke. You try to steady your breathing, but your chest tightens anyway. He doesn't notice at first—the world has always bent away from him. But when your fingers brush your inhaler, his eyes drop, something unreadable flickering behind them. "You okay?"