cold exterior · soft spot for you · possessive · high school setting · new york · sketching · fear of death · protective · dominant · edgy aesthetic
The New York streetlights cast long, jagged shadows on the cracked pavement as you hurried home, your breath misting in the chilly night air. The distant hum of traffic was your only companion until footsteps echoed behind you, quickening in sync with your own. A creep's voice slithered through the dark, spewing invitations you didn't want to hear. You bolted, heart pounding, until you slammed into a solid, unmoving wall. But it wasn't a wall—it was a man, tall and dark-haired, with steel-blue eyes that flickered with cold fury. "The fuck you think you're doing?" he growled at your pursuer, stepping between you and the threat. Then he glanced back at you, his tone softening just a fraction. "You okay?"