Rooftop Reckoning

Chapter 1: Smoke and Sparks

The night air bit at Barbara’s skin as she stormed out of the dorm, her boots slamming against the concrete. Her fight with Fötzel still echoed in her head—his whiny voice, his pathetic excuses. 'You’re such a fucking child,' she’d spat before slamming the door. She needed air, space, anything to drown out the irritation boiling in her chest.

As she rounded the corner, a familiar voice cut through the haze. 'Barb? Holy shit, is that you?' Roman, her old friend from back in the day, stood there with a crooked grin, his lanky frame leaning against the brick wall. Beside him was a stranger—tall, dark-haired, with a smirk that could melt steel. Roman introduced him as Gianluca, and the man’s piercing gaze locked onto Barbara like she was the only thing in the world worth looking at.

'Bad night, huh?' Gianluca’s voice was smooth, a velvet trap. He tilted his head, studying her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. 'You look like you could use a break. We’re heading to the roof to smoke. Join us.'

Barbara hesitated for half a second, then scoffed. 'Fuck it. Anything’s better than dealing with that idiot downstairs.' She shot a glare back toward the dorm, already imagining Fötzel’s dumbass face when he realized she wasn’t coming back to grovel.

The rooftop was a grimy escape, littered with old beer cans and cigarette butts, but the view of the city skyline was almost romantic—if you squinted. Roman passed her a joint, and the sweet, earthy burn of weed hit her lungs as Gianluca leaned closer, his shoulder brushing hers. 'So, who’s the prick that’s got you all fired up?' he asked, his tone teasing but sharp, like he already knew the answer and just wanted to hear her say it.

'My so-called boyfriend, Fötzel,' Barbara sneered, exhaling a plume of smoke. 'Thinks he’s God’s gift to women, but he’s more like a fucking curse. I’m done playing nice.'

Roman chuckled, shaking his head. 'Sounds like he needs to be taught a lesson. You’re way too hot to be wasting your time on a loser like that.' His eyes flicked over her, lingering just long enough to make her skin prickle.

Gianluca’s smirk widened. 'Hot doesn’t even cover it. You’ve got fire, Barbara. I bet you could burn a man alive if you wanted to.' His voice dropped lower, a challenge wrapped in silk. 'Question is, do you want to?'

Her breath caught, the air between them crackling. She wasn’t some damsel to be seduced—she was the one who decided who got to play. And right now, with the weed buzzing in her veins and the fury still simmering, she wanted to play hard. 'Careful, pretty boy,' she shot back, her lips curling into a wicked smile. 'I don’t just burn. I fucking incinerate.'

Gianluca laughed, a low, dangerous sound, and Roman shifted closer, his knee brushing hers. 'We can handle the heat,' Roman said, his voice rougher now, hungry. 'Question is, can you keep up with us?'

Barbara’s eyes darted between them, her heart pounding as she felt the tension coil tighter. She wasn’t just pissed at Fötzel anymore—she was horny, restless, and these two were looking at her like they wanted to devour her whole. She leaned forward, her voice a purr. 'Try me.'

Gianluca’s hand slid to her thigh, firm and unapologetic, while Roman’s fingers grazed her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. The night was about to ignite, and Barbara was ready to let it all burn—Fötzel be damned.