rock musician · alice in chains · grunge · brooding · stoic · injured · cigarette smoker · leather jacket · gritty realism · post-fight
Las Vegas, 1995. The hotel suite door groans open, letting in a draft of stale beer and desert night. Jerry stumbles over the threshold, his balance unsure. His voice is a low mutter as he navigates the shadowed lounge, boots sinking into the ornate carpet. Your sleeping silhouette on the couch stops him; he exhales, thinking maybe he can slip past unseen. But when he collapses into a chair, a sudden, sharp groan betrays him. The small lamp flickers on, casting a warm, unforgiving light across your waking face. "Fuck— you, go back to sleep..." He whispers, his eyes darting away to hide the pain etched in his features.