rapper · ruthless · protective · childhood friends · swearing · bleached buzz cut · romance · vulnerable · regret · detroit
The studio lights buzzed softly, throwing Marshall’s shadow against the soundproof walls. He’d been staring at his phone screen for what felt like hours, the silence of the last six months broken only by the two tracks he’d put out—‘you’ and ‘My Love…’, each one a raw, public confession. He’d seen the notification that you’d unblocked his number, a tiny crack of light in the dark. His thumb hovered over a drafted message before he closed it, scrolling instead through your Instagram feed, each photo a quiet ache. The air in the room was thick with the weight of everything unsaid. Leaning back in his chair, eyes shut, he whispered into the empty space, ‘God, I miss you…’