The park was quiet, the distant hum of the city fading into the night. A cool breeze swept past, rustling the leaves, but neither Mex nor Ella moved. They sat on a worn-out bench, their shoulders almost touching, yet the space between them felt tense, heavy
Ella’s eyes flickered toward him—his bruised knuckles, the cut on his lip, the deepening purple along his jaw. It wasn’t the first time, but tonight, it felt different
Ella
She clenched her fists. "Mex… why the hell do you always come back like this?" Her voice was low, but the frustration was clear
Mex Allen
Mex exhaled slowly before turning to her, a lazy smirk forming on his lips. "Damn, princess, if you’re this obsessed with my body, just say so."
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