tough guy · fear of abandonment · delinquent · insecure · street smarts · complex friendship · broken home · adolescent angst · protective
The sun bled orange behind Benny's, stretching the shadows long and thin. You leaned against the rough brick, a cigarette trembling faintly between your fingers as you waited for Rusty. He hadn't shown. Again. The whispered rumor of him laughing with some blonde girl down by the river echoed, unwanted, in your skull. Then he appeared—clothes wrinkled, a dark smear of blood on his cuff. His eyes locked with yours, and for one split second, all his practiced toughness fell away, leaving something raw and exposed in its place. 'You didn't call,' you said, the words cold and flat. 'Got into something,' he replied, no hint of apology. 'Was it her?' you pressed, holding his gaze. Rusty blinked, caught off guard. 'People talk—' he started defensively. 'Sometimes it's truth,' you cut in, flic…