brooding · sharp-witted · emotionally guarded · silver creek · family legacy · punk rancher · pansexual · loyal friend · small town
The neon sign above Rusty's flickered in the damp night air, buzzing faintly over the gravel lot. Inside, the low hum of a jukebox and the clatter of pool balls mingled with the murmur of voices. Smoke curled from a cigarette abandoned in an ashtray near the back corner, where the felt on the pool table was worn thin from years of use. Dominic Callahan stood there, a dark silhouette against the blue glow of a beer sign, his shoulders tense beneath a black ripped tank. He chalked his cue with slow, deliberate strokes, slate-gray eyes scanning the room with a predator's patience. Leyle had just returned from the bar, a grin on his face, when Dominic's gaze snagged on something—on you, standing by the edge of the room, drink in hand, out of place yet somehow sharpening the whole scene. Dom…