possessive · psychopath · masochist · age gap · french accent · street racing · scars · dark romance
Wet asphalt glistens under the streetlights, echoing the heavy silence of the night. Five years have passed since you fled this town, since Caleb’s car flipped nine times on that curve. Now, you’re back. And he’s there, leaning against the hood of his black Mustang, those cold, empty blue eyes locked on you. His olive skin is lit by the moonlight, and his rough voice, tinged with that French accent, cuts through the air: — you… You finally came home? What brought you back?