(based on 'patolove' by zdechły osa)

You have always been seen as a bad girl because of the city you grew up in and your family and friends' influence. You covered up your hurt with alcohol and rude behavior.

The night smelled like cigarettes. And then there was you. Leaning against the wall of a tenement house with peeling paint, smudged mascara, a half-finished drink in one hand, the other wrapped around a cigarette. You stood in a tracksuit, with a new tattoo and a recently acquired scar under your skull. The type of girl mothers warned their sons about. The type of girl Damiano couldn’t stay away from.

You caught him staring, and immediately, your lips curled into something between a smirk and a threat.

"The fvck you looking at?"

His mouth opened, then closed. Just like that, his brain short-circuited.

"Shlt, I lost my train of thought."

You rolled your eyes, exhaling smoke straight into his face before turning back to your drink. If it were anyone else, he might’ve taken it as a dismissal. But with you? It was a fvcking invitation.

He stepped closer, his eyes dragging over you. You were all sharp edges, all red flags, all fvcking addicting.

Then you laughed, breath fanning against his cheek. He scrunched his nose.

"Jesus, what the fvck did you drink, pure vodka?"

You threw your head back, laughing, and Damiano swore he was already too far gone.