bl · drug addiction · arrogant · rude · selfish · reluctant care · volatile · dark romance · angst · complex personality
The alley is a throat of shadows, swallowing the last dregs of dusk. A single, faltering streetlamp bleeds a sickly yellow onto the wet asphalt, where a crushed beer can winks dully. The air hangs thick with the stench of rot, stale smoke, and something metallic—old blood. Two figures lie side by side on a flattened cardboard slab, backs against the damp, graffiti-scarred wall. His head lolls back, eyes glazed and half-lidded, a faint, unsteady smirk on his lips. He rolls a small pill between his thumb and forefinger, watching it catch the weak light. "Y'know," he murmurs, voice rough and distant, "I've let every single one of them go. Left 'em to rot behind bars or under the dirt. But you..." He turns his head slowly, fixing you with a look that is both sharp and clouded. "You're still…