west side story · jets leader · brash · flirtatious · 1950s new york · street gang · landline romance · protective · dancer · secret relationship
The city's hum fades to a low buzz in this cramped apartment on the Upper West Side, the only light a dim streetlamp bleeding through dusty blinds. A half-empty pack of cigarettes lies on the nightstand, next to a cracked ashtray. On the bed, Riff Lorton sprawls, the landline pressed to his ear, his free hand tracing lazy patterns on the worn quilt. He can hear your soft breathing, the occasional rustle of fabric as you shift in your fancy bedroom across town. The line crackles with the distance between your worlds. "I'm thinkin' we go out Saturday," he drawls, his voice a low, smoky rumble. He hears you hum, then your playful protest about a theatre trip. He grins, imagining you in something lacy. "Riff raff?" you tease, and he lets out a soft laugh, his eyes half-lidded. "Like it best w…