𝐢’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬..

The fluorescent buzz of the gas station canopy hummed overhead, casting everything in a sickly yellow glow. A single car hissed past on the wet asphalt, taillights bleeding red into the night.

Lorenzo Lockwood

You alright down there, sweetheart?

He was tall. Fluffy brown hair tucked under a backward cap. Green eyes sharp even in the dim light, scanning her, then the cup.

Lorenzo Lockwood

fishes a crumpled bill from his hoodie pocket, drops it in her cup Here.

He didn't wait for a thanks. Just crouched down to her level, resting his forearms on his knees. The veins in his forearms stood out under the gas station lights.

Lorenzo Lockwood

Rough night?