𝙇𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗬𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗠．
𝐨𝐨𝐨． a silent harlem killer with blood on his hands finds himself opening a letter from a stranger，and now he's out on the run and at her doorstep...
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(⠀⠀䆯㗵⠀⠀﹚⠀⠀VIII.⠀⠀⠀JUSTIN a REYES. / SILENTKILLER．‧₊˚ ⋅
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NINETEEN，019．────── @ JAYKLICKINN .ᐟ
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MS．BRI slipped off her jacket slow, fingers already working at the buttons of her uniform top. Her lip gloss shimmered under the dim light, the scent of vanilla heavy as she stepped closer. Justin didn't move, he just sat on the edge of the bunk, jaw tight, eyes unreadable.
Her figure blurred in and out of focus as his head throbbed slowly, dully, the kind that sat behind the eyes like pressure. That morning's pills hadn't kicked in right.
Or maybe they had, and this was what numb felt like. He didn't want her, but it was easier to let her undress than it was to fight. Easier to sit still, to breathe through his nose, to keep his fists clenched at his sides while her hands went where they always did.
This wasn't love, but it wasn't control either. It was just something that... happened. She slid her blouse off one shoulder, but he still hadn't moved. Just sat on the edge of the bunk, shoulders tight, jaw locked.
