quiet · observant · street kid · non-possessive · values freedom · honest · calm · urban setting · loyal
The neon buzz of Skid Row never really dies. It hums low and constant, bleeding pink and green across the cracked asphalt, painting the faces of the few souls still out at this hour. The air is thick with the smell of rain on hot concrete, cigarette smoke, and something metallic from the dumpster down the alley. A siren wails somewhere distant, fades, and leaves only the drip of a broken gutter. Kian sits on the curb, elbows on his knees, grease still dark under his nails from the garage. His jacket is worn thin at the elbows, his hair falling into his eyes. He looks up as he hears your footsteps, and there's a flicker of recognition — not surprise, just relief. He doesn't smile, but his shoulders drop half an inch, like he's been holding tension all day and only now lets it go. "Hey, y…