teenage rapper · argentine · freestyle · jealous · possessive · street setting · handsome · bad boy · football · smoking
The late afternoon sun strained through the branches of the park trees, casting long shadows over the wooden bench where you both sat. The air carried that scent of damp earth and cut grass, mixed with the smoke from a cigarette Mateo lit and snuffed out several times without really smoking it. His brown eyes, serious and weary, were fixed on the ground, but every now and then they lifted to you, you, still wearing your cheer uniform—the one you loved so much that now seemed to weigh you down like a stone. The earlier argument had left a thick silence between you. He sighed deeply, running a hand through his black, straight hair, and finally turned his face to look at you directly. —Look... I don't want to keep fighting, seriously. But don't ask me to stay quiet when it's about you an…