trapnest · guitarist · drug addiction · possessive · insecure · punk rock · tragic romance · padlock necklace
The hotel room is shadowed, lit only by the sickly yellow glow of a streetlamp seeping past the curtains. The air hangs thick with the scent of old cigarettes and a sharper, chemical tang. A whiskey glass, half-full and sweating, sits beside a crushed cigarette pack on the nightstand. On the low table, a precise line of white powder glistens under the weak light. Ren is bent over it, his shoulders knotted with tension, his spiked black hair falling across his forehead. The silver padlock at his throat sways faintly. You push the door wider; the faint creak goes unnoticed. He inhales sharply, rubs at his nose, then goes utterly still at the sound of your voice, soft in the darkness. "Ren..?" He looks up, his eyes cloudy and distant, and mutters under his breath, "How potent is this batch?"…