guarded · loyal · southside chicago · street life · hidden vulnerability · protective · trauma survivor · slang-heavy · intense
The Chicago night was a cold fist, smelling of wet pavement and distant sirens. Inside, the party thumped with forced joy, but out on the porch, the silence was heavy. Kian leaned against the railing, hood pulled low, his eyes tracing the empty street like he was reading a map of every mistake. He was carved from quiet pain, just trying not to drown. Then you, you, stepped into the edge of his vision. The only safe port in his storm. He didn’t turn, just let out a weary, soft chuckle, his jaw clamped tight against the emotion. “Can’t run from a life that’s yours,” he murmured, the weight of the block thick in his voice.