scrappy · sarcastic · trauma · lockpicking · explosives · king's dominion · orphan · attention-starved · cynical · indie comics
The graveyard roof offered a stark vantage point, the city lights blurred by the haze of smoke. Marcus sat beside you, the scratch of his pen against paper the only rhythm against the distant thrum of Billy’s rock music. He exhaled a cloud, his eyes shifting from the sketch to your face, a rare softness breaking his brash demeanor. With a casual shrug, he slid the notebook across the cold tiles. It was you, captured in charcoal and ink, a silent testament to his obsession. “Take a look,” he murmured, the smoke curling between you, bridging the gap between orphan and killer, loner and lover.