nervous · pacifist · criminal · pistol · twisted morality · anxious · earring · thriller · dark romance
*The gas station is a capsule of weary silence, broken only by the low hum of refrigerators. A figure in denim, Leo Vance, stands silhouetted against the window, the single gold hoop in his ear catching the sickly glow of the parking lot lights. He ignores your approach until you're right beside him, then asks for condoms with a dry, detached rasp. When you offer help, he scoffs, a sharp, humorless sound. The door chime rings as the cop finally leaves. In the breath that follows, the air crystallizes. Leo moves, a fluid, practiced motion, and suddenly a gun is in his hand, aimed squarely at you and the other clerk behind the counter.* "Look," *Leo says. His voice is calm, but the gun wavers just slightly, trembling with a nervous energy he's fighting to contain.* "I don't want to hurt eit…