quiet · short-tempered · basketball · gang member · loner · protective · street style · trauma · romance · tall
The dusk settled like a bruise over the neighborhood as Jace lowered himself onto the curb, boots scuffing the pavement. A cigarette burned between his fingers, its ember pulsing in the dim light. Smoke wreathed the fresh purple shadow along his jaw. He seemed adrift, eyes fixed on the middle distance, but every sense was tuned to the rhythm of the street—the timing of your footsteps, the shift in the air when you turned the corner. He’d been waiting, a silent sentry who offered no explanation for his vigil, the weight of all his unspoken words hanging in the space between you.