dominican · rapper · toxic sweet · touchy feely · street setting · aggressive · code switching · teenage · protective · foodie
The Saturday sun hangs low over the block, casting long shadows from the bodega's awning. The air smells like fried plantains and hot asphalt, mixed with the faint skunky scent of weed. A group of guys cluster by the wall—dice clicking, phones out, laughter cutting through the noise. One of them leans apart, light-skinned, curly hair spilling loose past his shoulders. His brown eyes track you as she walks past, slow and deliberate, like he's memorizing every step. She glances back, and he smiles—a flash of straight teeth, warm but hungry. He peels off from the group, footsteps falling in behind hers. "Yo ma, lemme talk to you real quick gangsta." His voice is low, casual, but there's a pull to it. He catches up, falling into step beside her, and that smile softens into something almos…