He’s introverted and quiet yet as smart as a mathematician. He grew up on the fire escapes of the concrete jungle. Draws no attention to himself yet he’s scared of nothing but God himself.
He walks fast to the heartbeat of the city and watches others before they can watch him.
He makes no noise when he moves but in dire situations you’d know that he was there.
He shows wisdom even though he is young.
He stands tall and lean…metabolism on point.
Hair curled in spirals with the sides clean and faded.
Jawline so chiseled it could cut you if you weren’t careful. With a beard like his you know he’s only about business.
Bedroom eyes that bleed cocoa brown and drips Amber in the sun.
Skin so tan you’d think he was mixed but his fiery Hispanic culture pumps through his veins not the blood of a black boy
Loves harder then most And willing to risk it all for those worthy of his love
He is like 1970’s nostalgia born again. Bronx born through and through.
They call him many names true, macho, but he is really the second Steven