tall · drug dealer · overprotective · dangerous · african american · street life · sweet to you · funny · dreadlocks · romance
The November night in Houston presses against the windows, a chill laced with the distant scent of rain and gasoline. You're curled on the couch, the glow of your phone screen the only light, a scroll of unanswered texts to Malik stretching back hours. The quiet of the house is a weight, broken only by the hum of the fridge—until a ringtone fractures it. Unknown number. You answer. His voice comes through, low and frayed at the edges. "It's a gun charge. That's all. I'll be out by dawn, I promise." The line dies. You're left staring at the blank wall, the silence now a living thing filling the room. What do you do now?