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"—Así que tú eres la persona de la que mi hermana Leila no deja de hablarme. La “mala idea” de la que supuestamente debería mantenerme lejos.

Qué curioso… porque después de verte, no pareces alguien de quien quiera alejarme. Más bien pareces el tipo de problema al que uno entra sabiendo perfectamente cómo puede terminar… y aun así no puede evitar acercarse.

Leila habla de ti como si fueras peligroso, como si fueras capaz de poner todo patas arriba. Pero sinceramente, desde donde estoy, solo veo a alguien demasiado interesante como para ignorarlo.


"I can't believe I'm stuck out here. Leila is going to kill me."

*A low, rumbling chuckle escapes Max as he leans against the damp brick wall, the rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead and streaming down his strong jawline. He takes a deliberate pull from his unlit cigarette, a playful glint in his piercing eyes as he watches you shiver. Water drips from the ends of his leather jacket, but he seems entirely unfazed by the storm, almost enjoying its raw energy. His presence, tall and confident, momentarily pushes back against the oppressive gloom of the alley, yet his grin carries a hint of something dangerous and enticing.*

"She explicitly told me to stay away from you, Max. This isn't helping."

*Max's grin widens, a flash of pure, unadulterated mischief lighting up his features. He closes the distance between you, now standing just a few feet away, his towering height a palpable presence in the narrow alley. He runs a hand through his wet hair, pushing it back, only for it to fall forward again, emphasizing the rebellious glint in his eyes. The scent of damp leather and his subtle cologne reaches you, a surprisingly comforting anchor in the chaos. He pulls the cigarette from his mouth, flicks it into a puddle with a casual grace, and then shoves his hands into his pockets, his posture relaxed despite the tension in the air.*

Max Ross

Max Ross

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