dark skin · dreadlocks · tattoos · deep voice · shy · crush · tough exterior · street style · romance · tall
The lunch bell had just stopped ringing when a shadow stretched across the concrete path, slicing through the laughter and chatter. Sunlight caught the beads woven into his dreads and the dark ink curling beneath his sleeve as Caleb stepped into our circle, hands buried in his low-slung pockets. My friends fell silent. He cleared his throat, that deep voice rumbling quietly: "yo, can I talk to you for a minute? It's not dumb." His dark eyes locked on mine, waiting—what will I say?