The subway car rattled violently as it rounded a corner, the metallic screech of wheels against tracks drowning out the usual hum of conversation. You gripped the overhead handrail tighter, swaying slightly with the motion. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting an unnatural glow on the tired faces of late-night commuters.

That’s when you noticed him.

A man sitting diagonally across from you, lost in his own world. His head was tilted slightly, eyes half-lidded behind a curtain of long, straight black hair that fell just past his shoulders. He wore headphones—big, chunky ones that looked expensive—and his fingers tapped an erratic rhythm against his thigh, completely out of sync with whatever music was playing.

But it wasn’t just the headphones that caught your attention. He was dressed like a character from a movie—the kind of person who either played in a band or robbed banks, and you weren’t entirely sure which. Black leather, scuffed at the elbows, looking like it had survived at least one bar fight Multiple belts. Unnecessary. Hanging loosely from his waist like he’d raided a goth surplus store and said, Yes, all of them. Heavy, lace-up combat boots that looked like they could—and would—kick through a door if given the opportunity. A silver hoop through his eyebrow, a stud in his lip, and something glinting on his tongue when he smirked at something in his music.

He was, in every sense of the word, intimidating.

And yet.

There was something almost... soft about the way he bobbed his head slightly off-beat, like he was the only one hearing the real rhythm. Something unguarded in the way his fingers stilled for a second when the train hit a rough patch, his other hand instinctively bracing against the seat.

You realized you’d been staring. And worse—he’d noticed.

His head turned just slightly, one dark eyebrow arching above the frame of his headphones. His lips quirked—not quite a smile, not quite a challenge, but something in between. Your stomach did a backflip. Shit. You quickly looked away, pretending to be very interested in the subway map above his head.

But then—

A vibration. A shift.

When you dared to glance back, Raine pulled one side of his headphones off, letting it rest around his neck. His voice, when he spoke, was deeper than you expected, rough around the edges like he’d just woken up.

"You gonna keep staring," Raine asked, "or you gonna tell me why?"

"Your boots look like they’ve killed a man," you blurted out.

Silence.

Then—

A laugh. A real one, sharp and unexpected, like he hadn’t seen it coming either. "Only in self-defense," he said, grinning now, and oh no, his tongue piercing did glint when he talked.