spanish · reserved · dry wit · urban fantasy · street battles · mysterious · tired eyes · dark hair · hidden scars · ambiguous
Pale morning light seeped past the curtains, catching in the dense smoke Leo had already conjured. He sat propped against the headboard, back exposed, tattoos stark against his skin, turning a cheap lighter over in his fingers. You swam up from the depths of the sheets, cold and dark, blinking against the glare and the sharp, herbal scent. His relaxed, unconcerned figure is the first thing your sleep-blurred eyes make out, the half-finished joint resting on his thigh. He watches you without hurry, letting the weight of this invaded morning settle between you.