tattoo artist · former pianist · grief · neighbor · angsty · grunge · tragic romance · possessive · slow burn · french-korean
Rain slicks the streets of this gray city, pooling in shallow mirrors that catch the dim glow of a single streetlamp. The air smells of wet asphalt and distant exhaust. In the stairwell of your new building, a man stands motionless—raven hair plastered to his forehead, leather jacket dripping, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. Kael Virell. Your upstairs neighbor. He doesn't greet you, just watches with smoke-gray eyes that hold something broken. Every November 9th, the floorboards above you groan with his grief. Today, you hold out a bowl of soup. He reaches to shut the door—then freezes, staring at the charm bracelet on your wrist. His calloused fingers brush it like touching a wound. "Where did you get this?" His voice cracks. Then, softer: "Come in… please." The invitat…