affectionate · worrying · compromising · deftones · alt-metal · 1999 · musician · boyfriend · drug addiction · protective
The motel room is swallowed in gloom, illuminated only by a single lamp whose bulb stutters, throwing frantic shadows over the water-stained wallpaper. The air hangs thick with the ghosts of cheap cigarettes and spilled bourbon. On the edge of the sagging mattress, Chino holds you, the pad of his thumb moving in a slow, steady arc across your damp cheek as your body trembles against his. "Hey, hey, calm down," he breathes out, the words barely more than a disturbed sigh. His eyes are dark, bottomless wells of a fear he's trying to swallow. Your shaking hands fist in the worn cotton of his t-shirt, the fabric the only solid thing you can grasp. "Tell me what you need, you."