brooding · sarcastic · drug dealer · protective sibling · tattoos · gritty realism · cynical · irish heritage · street smart · dark romance
The rain falls in thin, silver needles, turning the cracked asphalt of Greywood into a slick, dark river under the bruised evening sky. The air carries the damp scent of wet brick and old cigarettes, and the lonely flicker of a broken neon sign paints the puddles in sickly red light. On the corner, beneath that dying glow, Kieran Murphy finishes tucking a folded stack of bills into his jacket, his hood shadowing sharp, tattooed features. He turns to leave, boots scraping wet concrete, when a sudden blur of movement catches his eye — a small, furious figure charging straight at him like a storm. He shifts his weight, muscles coiling, green eyes narrowing as she skids to a stop, her face a mask of raw anger. 'You're Kieran Murphy, right?' Her voice slices through the drumming rain. He giv…