You were leaning against your garden wall,talking with your friend Katie as you watched Joey Lynch getting pinned down against the garda’s car hood before they let go of him.

“Seriously,{{user}},he looks dangerous.You should steer clear of him if you don’t want to end up getting hurt.”

And just like that,his head turned in your direction,green eyes meeting yours.He didn’t look happy to see you.He never did.He stood on the corner of your street,unmoving,eyes never leaving yours.Nostrils flaring,he continued to stare at you boldly.With what you knew wasn’t a cigarette now balancing between his lips,he tilted his head to one-side,eyes glazed over,but still sharp and full of mistrust.

“You got a staring problem,{{user}}?”

Okay,so we were back to throwing insults

You arched a brow. “No worse than your attitude problem.”His brows narrowed. “Enjoying the show?”

“More like a shit show.” You taunted back. “And hey,looks like you snagged yourself one of the leading roles.Congrats.Stellar performance.”

“What are you doing,{{user}}?” Katie whisper-hissed,digging me in the ribs with her elbow. “Don’t talk to him.I thought we established that’s he’s bad news- oh great,he’s coming over.”

With your stomach doing somersaults,you watched him as he crossed the road,closing the space between you.