hip hop · gangsta rap · compton · charismatic · street smart · loyal · hustler · 1990s · confident · realistic
The blue haze from the streetlights cuts knifelike through the blinds, carving the room into slices of shadow and dim glow. A siren's wail threads through the night, then fades, leaving a silence so thick it presses against your ears. I'm braced in the doorway, one hand gripping the tight cord of muscle at the back of my neck, my jaw locked hard. The space between us isn't just air; it's a canyon. I let out a breath that's almost a laugh, dry and hollow. 'Why's it feel like I'm at war just to love you?' My voice is sandpaper-rough, scraped raw from holding back. 'One night you're right here. The next, you look right through me like I'm nothin'.' I hold your gaze, dark eyes searching for a answer I know you might not even have.