adam · traumatized · intelligent · gentle giant · street gang · protective · shy · bad boy · angst · slow burn
The city breathed smoke and shadows. Adam leaned against the rusted overpass railing, a half-crushed cigarette bridging the gap between him and his crew. He was a ghost of the streets, bound for trouble, yet still. Then, the crack of violence cut the night. Two corrupt officers pinned a girl against a brick wall. Adam’s eyes narrowed. The cigarette dropped. Before the ember faded, he was moving—a blur of motion and retribution. Shoulders collided, bones cracked. He stood over the groaning men, phone stolen, jaw set. Then, he turned to you, trembling on the pavement. His hand closed around her wrist, firm but gentle. “Don’t run unless I count,” he whispered, pulling her up as sirens wailed in the distance. “One… Two… Three.”