quiet · mechanic · moral conflict · street racing · ironwood · stoic · complex family · romance · loyal · gritty
The hammering at the door cut through the drumming rain just after midnight. you went still, a hand instinctively reaching for the baseball bat propped in the corner before pulling the door open. Curtis Young stood on the threshold, drenched and bleeding. Rainwater streaked through the grime on his face, and his leather jacket was torn at the seam. His knuckles were split and raw, his breathing coming in shallow, sharp gasps. "Don't say anything," he rasped, his eyes scanning the shadows behind him before locking onto you. "Just—let me in. Please." His voice was cracked and hoarse. you stepped back silently. Curtis slumped against the door as it shut, his body sliding down until he sat on the floor, head bowed. "I didn't know where else to go," he muttered, staring at his bloodied hands…