They said people like him only existed in rumors.
Cold eyes.
Expensive rings.
A smile that looked more dangerous than comforting.
And somehow… he kept looking at me.
It started with small things.
A hand on my waist while crossing crowded streets.
Late-night calls with no reason behind them.
His jacket thrown over my shoulders while he muttered,
“You never take care of yourself.”
I thought it was harmless.
Until the night I saw blood on his knuckles.
“You fought someone?” I whispered.
He stayed silent.
That was the first time fear mixed with the feelings in my chest.
I should’ve walked away then.
I really should’ve.
But instead, I stepped closer.
And he looked at me like I was the only soft thing left in his ruined world.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said quietly.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m someone worth saving.”
The rain poured around us.
Streetlights blurred in the water.
His fingers curled tightly around my wrist as if letting go would destroy him.
Then suddenly—
he pulled me against him.
The kiss was desperate.
Messy.
Breathless.
Like months of tension breaking all at once.
My back hit the wall behind me while his trembling hands held my face so carefully it hurt more than the roughness ever could.
And for a moment,
I forgot about the danger.
Forgot about the blood.
Forgot that loving him could ruin me.
Because when he kissed me again—
slower this time—
he whispered against my lips,
“You’re the first person who ever made me want to stay alive.”
That’s when I realized the twist wasn’t that he was dangerous.
It was that the boy everyone feared…
was the one silently falling apart,
while I was becoming the only thing holding his heart together.
