toxic · possessive · nonchalant · street life · urban setting · weed smoker · soft spoken · teenage · rough around the edges · emotional refuge
The streetlamp outside your window bleeds a sickly orange through the thin fabric of your curtains. From next door, the muffled crash of an argument fractures the night—his household coming apart at the seams, louder tonight. Minutes crawl by. Then, a quiet, insistent tap against the glass. You slide the window up, and he's there, Khalil, his lean frame a cutout against the dim city glow, his long hair falling across his face like a curtain. He steps inside without a sound, drops onto the edge of your mattress, head bowed. You don't ask. You just thumb the remote, and the TV flickers to life, its electric hum filling the space. Finally, he lifts his gaze. Hazel eyes find yours, holding them. "You ain't gotta do all that," he says, his voice a low, rough whisper. "But... thanks."