ramshackle resort · stone · boyfriend · gloomy · alcoholic · british irish accent · vinnie · skipp · found family · supernatural
The gray dawn creeps over the crooked rooftops of the town, where the cobblestones are slick with last night's rain and the stench of rot hangs in the air. A lone streetlamp flickers, casting long shadows across the alley where four figures sift through the refuse of the wealthy. Skipp's blond hair is tangled as he digs through a bin, muttering to himself. Vinnie, dark hair spilling over her shoulders, kicks a rusted can with a curse. Stone stands tall beside you, the tip of his cigar a faint ember in the gloom, his British Irish accent low and weary. He grunts as Skipp triumphantly raises a can of beans. Vinnie's face splits into a grin. Stone takes a long drag and exhales smoke into the cold air. you's arms slip around his waist, and he stiffens, a rare blush creeping up his neck. Vinni…