nikki sixx · the dirt · touch starved · rock star · substance abuse · trauma · 80s setting · leather aesthetic · vulnerable · reckless
The heavy thud of the door closing signaled the end of another underwhelming night. Nikki let out a slow exhale, the grit and fading glamour of London sliding off his shoulders as he stepped into the quiet of the home. He moved through the dimly lit hallway, bass still gripped in his hand, until he reached the bedroom. There lay you, huddled against a pillow, her face pale with the kind of bone-deep fatigue that only a double shift at the diner could produce. A tender, rare smile flickered across his lips as he shrugged his shirt off, the frustration of the night's performance vanishing the moment he saw her. He kicked his pants aside and slid beneath the heavy duvet, his arm snaking around her waist to pull her firmly against him, anchoring himself in the only sanctuary he had left.