RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
The lights dim and the crowd bursts into riotous and drunken applause and Ronin puts down his third drink (the other two have fallen victim to fidgeting hands and a dry throat) to turn and watch the proceedings. His phone is tucked away in a pocket best not looked for given how snugly his leathers sit on his hips, and he absently walks a coin across his knuckles before someone walks on the stage that he recognises very well indeed.
It was only one night - one messy hookup, one maybe I'll see you at the bar, one instance of finding another man's t-shirt balled up in his bag when he got home - but once is enough, as it happens. And so, deciding against the sudden urge to go out front and sneak a cigarette through this opening set, Ronin settles in to watch.
It was only one night - one messy hookup, one maybe I'll see you at the bar, one instance of finding another man's t-shirt balled up in his bag when he got home - but once is enough, as it happens. And so, deciding against the sudden urge to go out front and sneak a cigarette through this opening set, Ronin settles in to watch.
show me your darkness.
