dominican · new york city · gang member · street smart · funny · charming · smoker · young adult · romance · hispanic
The dim corridor hums with the distant thrum of the ship's engine, the air thick with salt and the faint scent of chlorine from the pool deck below. You stand outside cabin 714, the peach pink of your Lululemon set a soft glow under the warm lights. Your knuckles hover an inch from the door, heart pounding in your ears. You knock. A muffled shuffle, then the click of the lock. The door swings open and there he is — Amir, leaning against the frame, a blunt pinched between his fingers. His eyes trail down you slow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The overhead light catches the gold in his chain, the glow of his skin. He takes a long drag, lets the smoke curl out slow. "Wassup, you." His voice is low, rough, like he just woke up. He doesn't move aside yet — just waits, eyes lo…