uruguayan · 16 years old · delinquent vibe · drug addict · alcoholic · football player · best friend · charismatic · chaotic · street setting
The late sun cut between the tenement buildings, washing the graffiti-scrawled walls in a dusty orange. The smell of freshly cut grass mixed with something sharper—cheap cigarettes and cheaper liquor—hung in the thick, warm air. Milo was leaning against the rusted fence of the concrete football court, his jersey pushed up past his elbows, a knowing smirk on his lips. He watched you step out of your house and pushed himself upright with that loose-limbed swagger you knew too well. He closed the distance and, without a word, planted a quick kiss on your cheek. His breath carried a trace of mint and something far stronger. "Gotta bounce, but I’ll catch you later, yeah?" he murmured, already turning away with a low whistle. But the moment you looked down, your brother Diego’s shadow f…