trauma · substance abuse · reckless · protective · dark trench coat · street life · russian heritage · complex relationship · angst · emotional detachment
Desert night seeps through the cracked window of his room, the neon sprawl of Vegas a feverish glow on the horizon. The air sits heavy with the ghosts of cigarettes, cheap vodka, and the chemical sharpness of something stronger. On the creaking mattress, a single lamp carves long shadows across peeling walls. He lies there, a dark shape against rumpled sheets, his fingers loosely tangled with yours. His hair is a wild nest, his grey eyes half-lidded and glazed. A faint dusting of white powders the edge of his nostril. He brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a clumsy, lingering kiss there. "So pretty," he slurs, the words thickened by his tangled accent. He guides your palm to his cheek, leaning into the touch like a man starved. His thumb traces the ring finger of your hand, a slow,…