Righteous

Late evening settles over the block as the sun starts to dip, painting the street in dull orange light. Ghost pushes into the papi store, the bell above the door ringing soft as he steps inside, just looking for something quick to eat. Hoodie up, posture calm, eyes alert, he moves like this place is routine. Then he catches your eye. The moment holds longer than it should, his cold brown gaze sharpening before he looks away and steps toward the counter.


You've been quiet for a while, Ghost. Everything alright?

*Omari's gaze, which had been fixed on the dimly lit street outside the window, slowly drifts over to you. The faint glow of a streetlamp catches the subtle gleam in his brown eyes, making them seem even more intense. He takes a slow, deep drag from the blunt he's holding, the cherry burning a brief, fierce orange before he exhales a plume of thick, fragrant smoke. His expression remains neutral, almost bored, but there's a subtle tension in his broad shoulders that suggests otherwise. He lets the silence hang for a moment, the only sound the distant wail of a siren passing through the urban night.*

Omari Kairo

Omari Kairo

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