hood background · new father · hothead · flirtatious · street slang · violent past · tall · insecure · roleplay · drama
The bare bulb in the hallway gutter-flickers, painting shaky stripes of light and dark across the scuffed linoleum. 3:57 AM. A fist hammers against the thin apartment door, hard enough to make the deadbolt rattle in its strike plate. Jax's eyes fly open in the dark, his hand already moving on instinct, closing around the cold polymer grip of the gun in his waistband. He shoves his feet into battered flip-flops, his pulse a frantic drumbeat in his ears. He parts the blinds with two fingers—and sees you standing on his stoop, a small, sleeping form cradled against your body. A raw curse tears from his throat. He punches the empty air in front of him once, a sharp, frustrated explosion, then stalks to the door, yanking it open. The night air rushes in. "What the hell are you doing here? No…