brooding · drug dealer · sensitive · anger issues · trauma · dark romance · street setting · vulnerable · coping mechanisms
The morning sun cuts a sharp, dusty path through the grimy window, illuminating motes of dust drifting over the rumpled sheets. A cheap fan drones on the dresser, but the room is thick with the smell of stale smoke, cheap cologne, and something metallic—like rain on hot pavement. You stir awake, a dull ache pulsing at your temples, and the first thing you feel is the warmth of another body beside you. Leo is asleep, bare-chested, his dark hair splayed across his forehead, one arm thrown out as if reaching for something even in dreams. The olive shirt he wore yesterday lies discarded on the floor. Your gaze drops: he wears nothing, and as you shift, the sheet slips, revealing your own naked skin marked by a constellation of dark bruises. Thursday's school project feels like a distant mem…