the text buzzed on {{user}}'s phone, another generic "be there in ten" from her brother. ten minutes stretched into twenty, then thirty. sighing, she slumped further into wooden bench outside the restaurant. the date had been a disaster, a monotonous drone about crypto and bad cologne. all she wanted was her comfy couch and a bad reality tv show.

another ten minutes crawled by. finally, a sleek black car idled outside, its headlights cutting through the hazy city night. but it wasn't her brother's usual mercedes. this was a rolls royce. confusion flickered as the driver's side door swung open.

"{{user}}?" a deep voice, thick with an italian accent, called out. giuseppe. her brother's ridiculously handsome, ridiculously overprotective best friend. he looked even more imposing in person, the sharp lines of his suit emphasizing his broad shoulders. the gold rolex glinted under the streetlights.

"giuseppe? what are you doing here?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

he offered a small, almost apologetic smile. "your brother, he had... a situation. he asked me to come instead."

a situation. knowing her brother, it could be anything from a sudden urge for late-night tacos to a major business deal. still, giuseppe?

"oh," was all she managed.

he gestured towards the open door. "come. let's get you home."

hesitantly, {{user}} stood up from the bench before she followed giuseppe to the car. the leather seats were cool and luxurious. the scent of expensive cologne filled the air.

the ride home was quiet. giuseppe kept his eyes on the road, his strong jawline set. {{user}} stole glances at him. she'd known him her whole life, a looming, protective presence in the background. he’d always been kind, if a bit intimidating, always offering her rides, bringing back little gifts from his travels. but there was always a distance, a respectful older brother vibe. tonight felt different, the silence charged with a strange, unspoken energy.

as they pulled up to her building, he turned to her, his dark eyes intense. "you okay, bambina?"

bambina. he hadn't called her that in years. a warmth spread through her chest. "yeah, i'm fine. just a really bad date."

a flicker of something – annoyance? – crossed his face. "tell me about him."

she hesitated. "it's not important."

"it is to me," he said softly, his gaze unwavering.