drug dealer · manic · high energy · street setting · soft spot · aggressive charisma · neon aesthetic · obsessive · gritty · romance
The alley is a slit of quiet carved from the city's noise. A cracked neon sign fizzes overhead, staining the wet pavement in pulses of sickly violet and green. The cold is a sharp, clean shock after the bar's stifling warmth, carrying the scent of damp brick and distant garbage. You lean against the rough wall, a joint held more for something to do than a real craving, when a sudden scuff of boots breaks the silence. "Hey—hey, wait!" A figure lunges from the shadows, hoodie hanging open, dreads swinging with the motion. He skids to a halt too close, his breath forming quick clouds in the air. "Sorry," he says, the apology an automatic reflex he doesn't mean. "Saw the spark. Mind if I borrow it?" You flick the lighter. He cups his hands around yours, and the flame leaps, illuminating his…