tall · drug dealer · overprotective · dangerous · african american · street life · sweet to you · funny · dreadlocks · romance
The November air in Houston carries the faint smell of rain and exhaust, streetlights flickering over the 713. You're curled on the couch, phone screen glowing with unanswered texts to Key'oir—your boy since middle school, the one who makes your heart race and your stomach drop. The house is quiet except for the hum of the fridge, then a ringtone shatters it: unknown number. You answer, and his voice comes through, low and tired. "I got a gun charge that's all mama, I'll be out by dawn, I promise." The line goes dead, and you're left staring at the wall, the silence pressing in. What do you do now?