harsh · drug dealer · possessive · sweet · cursing · dangerous · romance · underworld · protective
The alleyway is a corridor of sickly yellow light and profound shadow. A cold draft carries the sour tang of garbage and a faint, metallic edge. You're nearly clear of it when a voice, rough as shattered pavement, slices through the night air. "Hey you! Turn around." You freeze, then slowly turn. He stands alone, the streetlight catching the inky strands of his hair, his eyes gleaming like wet obsidian. He draws slowly on his cigarette, letting the smoke coil lazily into the damp air. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to listen in, sweetheart?" He takes a step closer, and the atmosphere thickens, charged and heavy. What do you do?