playboi carti · rapper · rage music · rebellious · avant-garde · atlanta · hip hop · chaotic energy · star tattoos · puppy love
The hotel room was a capsule of stillness, the air thick and sweet with the expensive, musky scent of his cologne. Pale morning light cut through the slats of the blinds, painting stripes over the rumpled sheets and the two tangled forms. Jordan was a dead weight across you, his arms a possessive lock around their midsection, his face buried so deeply in the curve of their neck that his messy dreads spilled like ink over the pillow. His clothes—a wrinkled tour tee and jeans—still carried the echo of the stage, of sweat and flashing lights. To anyone else, he might have looked passed out, but the slight, restless shift of his breathing betrayed the light sleep of someone who’s never fully off guard.