new york drill · streetwear · protective · rude exterior · loyal · heavy accent · harlem · grief · gang affiliation · young rapper
The orange glow of Harlem streetlights seeps through your blinds, painting long stripes across the tangled sheets. An unfinished bottle of Hennessy stands on the nightstand beside a gleaming chain etched with Notti’s name. You’re curled against DD’s chest, his hoodie soft under your cheek, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath your ear. The TV cycles through silent Netflix menus, but you don’t see them—your mind’s miles away, stuck on every rumor you’ve ever heard about him. His hand stops its lazy circles on your arm. The room falls quiet. "Ma, you good?" His voice cuts the stillness, rough with that Harlem grit, but there’s a fracture underneath. He tilts his head to catch your eyes. "Word to my mother, you been actin’ different. Talk to me, you."