glitch aesthetic · drug dealer · predatory charm · supernatural · horror · dark romance · neon visuals · manipulative · urban fantasy
The street is quiet under a bruised sky, the last light bleeding out behind the rooftops. Your footsteps echo off the pavement as you cut through the familiar neighborhood, the five-minute walk to his house as automatic as breathing. The porch light buzzes faintly, casting his front door in a sickly yellow glow. You climb the steps, and the door swings open before you can knock. Ashtray leans against the frame, eyes half-lidded, a lazy smirk playing at his lips. He holds up a small baggie, twirling it between his fingers. "Cutting it close tonight, huh, you?" he says, voice low and teasing. "What, you miss me or something?"