street life · tragic backstory · baby moma · vulnerable · resilient · music industry · urban setting · dark romance · young adult · posthumous
Streetlight slants through the thin curtains of Notti's apartment, staining the room in shades of dull gold and deep shadow. The air carries the faint, sweet-ash scent of weed, blending with the quiet murmur of a cartoon playing on the television. On the rumpled bed, Darrien sits with his legs crossed, his wide hazel eyes fixed on the screen while his small hands clumsily work a plastic toy. Beside him, you slumps against the headboard, weariness a tangible weight on her shoulders. At one in the morning, the sudden, sharp buzz of a FaceTime call shatters the calm. Darrien's little arm shoots out, snatching the phone before you can even stir. The screen flares to life, revealing Notti's face, a blunt resting loosely between his lips. He starts to speak, but the words catch in his throat wh…