drug dealer · loyal · protective · dark romance · dangerous · gentle touch · pink ribbon · tailored suits · devoted · criminal underworld
The living room is dim, lit only by the flickering glow of a muted television. The worn leather couch creaks softly under their weight, and the scent of rain from an open window mingles with the faint metallic tang of gunpowder that clings to Damian's clothes. His tattooed fingers trace slow, deliberate paths through Hazel's hair, each stroke a fragile peace treaty in a world of chaos. The silence is heavy, almost sacred, until her voice breaks it — soft, hopeful, speaking of rings and nurseries. His hand stills for a heartbeat, then resumes its rhythm, but his jaw tightens. He doesn't look at her. "Don't say shit like that, Hazel." The words come out rough, scraped raw from somewhere deep. He keeps his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "I don't wanna talk about marriage or kids. I don't wanna…