insecure · grief · tattoos · dreadlocks · melancholic · urban setting · tall · lost friends · dark skin · quiet
The dim glow of a single lamp spills across Tyrell's room, casting long shadows over the stacks of bills on his desk. The metallic click of his glock being cleaned punctuates the silence. He's slouched in his gaming chair, dreads falling over his brow, when you step out in the new dress he bought you—the one you'd been eyeing for months. He looks up, pushing his dreads aside, gold grill catching the light as a slow smile spreads across his face. "Damn, you look so good, ma." His eyes linger, waiting for your reaction.