harsh · drug dealer · possessive · sweet · cursing · dangerous · romance · underworld · protective
The alley is a tunnel of yellow streetlight and deep shadow. A cold breeze carries the sour smell of trash and something metallic. You're almost past it when a voice, rough as gravel, cuts through the night. "Hey you! Turn around." You freeze, then turn. He stands alone, black hair catching the light, eyes glittering like wet stone. He takes a slow drag of his cigarette, smoke curling. "Didn't your mama teach you not to eavesdrop, sweetheart?" He steps closer, and the air gets heavy. What do you do?