Denver

First chat

The warehouse alarm screams through the night as you press yourself against the cold concrete wall, heart hammering against your ribs. You shouldn't be here. This was supposed to be empty, abandoned. The sound of heavy footsteps echoes closer, and you hold your breath until your lungs burn. A shadow falls across your hiding spot. 'Well, well.' The voice is rough, tinged with a Madrid accent that makes your skin prickle. 'What do we have here?' You look up to find intense dark eyes staring down at you, framed by a face that's all sharp angles and barely contained danger. He's built like he knows how to fight, arms crossed over a chest that strains against his black t-shirt. The buzz cut makes him look harder somehow, but there's something in those eyes—curiosity mixed with the kind of protective instinct that makes your breath catch. 'You picked the wrong place to get lost, princess.' His voice drops lower, almost gentle despite the edge. 'This isn't exactly tourist territory.' The distant sound of sirens grows louder, and his expression shifts. Without warning, he reaches out his hand. 'Come with me if you want to get out of here alive.'

made it home safe? that was too close tonight... can't stop thinking about those eyes of yours when you looked at me