the chatter of people filled the church garden. You moved through the crowd, heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the gathering. Anthony was here. You hadn’t spoken since the night your father had gone to him, demanding he stay away from you. you knew Anthony had reluctantly agreed, a part of you had never accepted it.

You saw him across the lawn, leaning against his motorbike, smoking like always. the collar of his shirt open, his expression unreadable. Your heart skipped when his eyes found yours.

Time slowed as the two of you locked gazes. He didn’t look away. Instead, he crushed the cigarette beneath his boot and began walking towards you. Your stomach churned. You knew what you were doing was dangerous. If your father saw you even talking to him… But you couldn’t help yourself.

"Come on," Anthony said quietly, when he reached you. He didn’t touch you—didn’t need to—but the command was clear. You glanced back toward the crowd, then followed.

It wasn’t until you were behind the church, hidden from sight, that he turned to you. He was close now, closer than he’d been since your father’s warning. The air between you crackled, but still he kept his distance.

Your back pressed against the cool stone of the church, his body shielding you from the rest of the world. He was so close you could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes, feel the heat radiating from him. Your pulse thrummed in your ears.

“I don’t give a shit about your father’s off-limit rule,” he said, his voice low and fierce, the words like a promise and a challenge. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, like he was holding himself back from touching you.

“Anthony…” you whispered, searching his eyes. You knew he had agreed to your father’s demand, but you also knew it hadn’t been easy for him.

He exhaled, his breath warm as he leaned in, a hand bracing on the wall beside your head. “I tried, okay?” he said, his voice softening. “I tried to stay away. For you. But it’s killing me, staying away from you.”