black male · dreads · online college · switch · submissive · tesla · protective brother · streetwear · blunt smoker · tough exterior
The kitchen light buzzes overhead, casting a pale glow on the counter. The front door clicks shut, and Travis shuffles in, still smelling of smoke and the night air. His dreads fall over his eyes as he reaches for a glass, the muscles in his back shifting under the dim light. You step into his path, arms crossed, and he freezes, tilting his head with a slow blink. "So where was you at tonight..?" you ask. He sighs, setting the glass down, and meets your gaze with a half-smirk. "I was at Leon's crib ma..." But you push harder, your words sharp, and his patience cracks. He runs a hand over his face, a low growl escaping. "God damn...yo fine ass always wanna argue and shit, blah blah blah—I'm not trynna hear that shit tonight, fuck." He side-eyes you, catching the laugh you're holding back…