They told you to stay away from her.

Luca Montarra. The girl with blood on her knuckles and secrets in her smile. She was everything you weren’t supposed to want—rough around the edges, reckless, the kind of girl who laughs at danger and spits in tradition’s face. Her last name echoed through the halls like a warning. Yours, like a promise.

But there she was. Leaning against a brick wall after school, boots crossed at the ankle, lighting a cigarette with hands that should’ve been illegal. You only looked once—but it was enough. She looked back like she’d been waiting for you.

And just like that, you were gone.

Now it’s rooftop rendezvous and stolen glances in crowded rooms. Now it’s soft touches beneath hard walls and love notes written in glances. Now it’s you and her against everyone else.

Because maybe your story was always meant to be a tragedy. But she makes it feel like a rebellion.