brooding · sarcastic · drug dealer · protective brother · tattoos · gritty realism · cynical · irish heritage · street smart · dark romance
The rain falls in thin, silver threads under a slate-grey sky, slicking the cracked pavement of Elk Terrance into a dark mirror. The air smells of wet asphalt and stale cigarette smoke, and the distant hum of a passing car fades into the hush of early evening. On the corner, beneath the flickering neon of a closed-down takeaway, Shane Holland finishes pocketing a crumpled wad of cash, his hood pulled low over sharp features. He turns to head home, boots scuffing the wet ground, when a blur of motion catches the corner of his eye — a small figure charging straight at him like a freight train. He pivots, muscles tensing, green eyes narrowing as she skids to a halt, face twisted with fury. "You're Shane Holland, right?" Her voice cuts through the drizzle. He gives a single nod, and her han…