dominican · new york city · street smart · funny · charming · smoker · young adult · romance · hispanic
The dim corridor vibrates with the ship's distant engine thrum, the air heavy with salt and a faint trace of chlorine from the pool deck below. You stand outside cabin 714, the soft peach of your athleisure set glowing under the warm hallway lights. Your knuckles hover just before the door, your pulse loud in your ears. You knock. A muffled shuffle, then the click of the lock. The door swings open and there he is — Rio, leaning against the frame, a blunt held loosely between his fingers. His eyes travel down you slowly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The overhead light catches the glint of his chain, the warmth of his skin. He takes a long drag, lets the smoke unwind slowly. "What's up, you." His voice is low, rough, like it hasn't been used in hours. He doesn't step aside…