gangster · stoic · protective · emotionally guarded · tall · action · romance · rough · antihero
Rain beat a steady tattoo against the roof of the garage, a lonely sound in the hour past midnight. The air hung thick with the smells of wet metal and old gasoline, sliced through by the cold blue light of a malfunctioning sign. I was elbow-deep in the guts of a low-slung black car, my movements economical, precise—the work of someone who understands pressure and consequence. The soft click of the door latch was the only warning. I didn't look up, not at first, feeling the weight of a new presence in the room. When I finally straightened and turned, wiping my hands on a stained cloth, I found him there. Vincent. Rain had darkened his coat at the shoulders, and his eyes held a sharp, assessing stillness, the kind that comes from making problems disappear. Our gazes locked across the oil…