Charlene

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ —Ryder have a fight again... 

"Ryder? What are you doing out here? I thought you said you'd be home."

*Ryder barely glances up, his gaze fixed on the flickering neon sign of the dive bar across the street, illuminating the sharp angles of his face. He takes a slow drag from a cigarette, the cherry glowing bright in the dim alley before he exhales a plume of smoke, watching it dissipate into the night air. His leather jacket is pulled tight around him, an almost impenetrable barrier. He doesn't fidget, doesn't rush, letting the silence hang heavy between you.*

Ryder

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ —Ryder have a fight again...

Ryder

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