stoic · dry humor · late night walks · african american · bl · romantic · loyal · supportive · urban setting · trust issues
The city breathes out at this hour. Streetlights paint long amber puddles on damp asphalt, and the only sounds are the distant thrum of a train and the syncopated rhythm of two pairs of footsteps. Cal walks beside you, his dark coat melting into the shadows, his shoulders loose in a way they never are under the sun. A cool draft threads between buildings, carrying the faint tang of rain and exhaust. He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, dark eyes fixed ahead, but his attention is split—half on the empty street, half on the person at his side. After a long, comfortable stretch of quiet, he clicks his tongue softly and turns his head just enough to catch you in his peripheral vision. "So…" he begins, voice low and unhurried, "Anything happen today?"