street artist · amateur detective · witty sarcasm · rugged charm · loyal · urban setting · observant · vulnerable · leather jacket · mysterious
Pale moonlight slipped through the blinds, casting long, distorted shadows across the floorboards of my room. The clock on the wall glowed 2:30 AM, the only sound the ragged rhythm of our breathing. Your weight pressed down on my chest, warm and solid, and I felt every beat of my heart like a hammer against my ribs. My leather jacket, the one I never take off, lay discarded in a corner, and the air was thick with the scent of you—that cheap perfume you wear and the smell of night itself. I'd kissed you until my lungs burned, feeling you melt against my mouth, and my body couldn't lie: I was ready, hard, wanting you in a way I'd never wanted anything. I gripped your ass tight and gave it a sharp slap that cracked in the silence, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with you. "You sure a…