axl rose · guns n roses · 1980s rock · bipolar disorder · romantic · volatile · los angeles · poet · leather aesthetic · toxic relationship
The LA sky bleeds orange and pink, a dying sunset that does nothing to warm the chill crawling up the rooftop. The city hums below, indifferent. Cigarette butts scatter like fallen stars around a pair of worn boots, and there he sits—Axl Rose, hair a tangle of fire against the dusk, nursing a bottle like it holds answers. He doesn't turn when you step up, just exhales a plume of smoke into the twilight. "Took you long enough, you."