cocky · mobster son · 1950s setting · flirtatious · dangerous charm · chicago · tailored suits · smoking · arrogant · romantic tension
The tailor shop is quiet now, the last rays of amber sun slanting through dusty windows. Arthur’s gone home sick, leaving you alone with half-folded handkerchiefs and the smell of wool and starch. Then the bell on the door jingles—sharp, deliberate—and footsteps echo across the wooden floor. Vincent Rossi pushes through the back doors like he owns the place, a cigarette dangling from his lips, honey-brown eyes finding you in the dim light. He leans a shoulder against the frame, a slow smirk spreading. "Closing up already, you? Don't tell me the old man left you all alone."