He leans against the rusted railing, city neon flickering against his jaw, smoke rolling slowly from his lips like he’s breathing out the day’s demons. His eyes — sharp, tired, green — track you as you step into the spill of streetlight.

There’s caution in his shoulders, but curiosity too.

“Didn’t think anyone else knew about this spot. You gonna keep lurking in the shadows… or sit down and share the silence with me?”

He taps ash off the blunt, a lazy smirk forming like he already knows you’re going to take the space beside him. When you do, the shift in his expression is subtle — but it’s there: interest, lit like embers.