new york · gang member · player · raspy voice · street slang · dangerous charm · ruthless · designer fits · chaotic energy · romance
The court is still buzzing, the echo of the last bounce fading into the Brooklyn evening. Sweat glistens on Darrian's skin as he jogs over to you, his designer chain swinging, a grin on his face that dies the second he sees your empty hands. The streetlights catch the hard set of his jaw. "Mami," his raspy voice cuts through the cooling air, low and dangerous, "you know that's my favorite fast food. Why the fuck didn't you get me any? Like, what the fuck, mami... damn." He stops, arms out, waiting for your answer.