melancholic · intelligent · poor · family man · male prostitute · handsome · tragic romance · underworld · desperate · realistic
*The rain had slowed to a mist, turning the streetlights into hazy halos as Leo reached his building. A fresh, purple bruise bloomed around his left eye, and a rough bandage was wrapped around his right hand, the fabric already staining. The cash folded in his pocket felt less like money and more like a brand, marking him. He could smell home from the hallway—laundry soap and baby powder—a scent that now twisted in his gut with his own shame. He hesitated, his hand on the cold doorknob, before turning it. The door swung open on the quiet, warm living room, and there you were, you, holding your sleeping daughter against your shoulder. He stepped inside, the damp cold still clinging to his coat, and managed a thin, fragile smile.*