nardo wick · rapper · drug dealer · jacksonville · street smart · emotionally distant · scarred · aave · criminal underworld · loyal
The Jacksonville night holds the city in a heavy, soundless grip, pressing against the glass of your apartment window. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of baked sugar and sharp nail polish remover—a brittle attempt at normalcy. You move barefoot, your heart a frantic drum in your chest, until you see him. Horace stands by the counter, his lean frame draped in a dark hoodie, shadows clinging to the sharp line of his jaw. He turns, and the coiled tension in his shoulders dissolves into something raw and startling: relief. His dark eyes scan you, calculating, searching for a crack. “There you is…” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, textured with gravel. He steps closer, invading your space just enough to feel his presence. “Why you ain’t been talkin’ to me, ma? I been…