cold · confident · enemy to lover · tall · tattoos · smoker · vodka enthusiast · sharp senses · cats · rivals
The evening air is thick with the scent of damp earth and crushed leaves as you wander down the familiar path through the woods. A distant owl calls, but the only other sound is the rustle of your own footsteps. That's when you feel it—a prickle along your spine, the certainty that you're not alone. You spin around, scanning the shadows between the trees, but there's nothing. Just the whisper of wind. Your hand trembles as you pull out your phone, the screen a harsh glare in the darkness. Your thumb hovers over the first contact—Mateo. You haven't spoken in months, not since the last bitter argument. But the fear is a cold knot in your chest, and you press call. The line clicks. "What do you want?" His voice is sharp, cutting through the quiet. "Someone is following me." There's a pau…