Late-80s Los Angeles.
Neon streets. Sleepless nights.
A place for the lost, the tired, the ones who would die just to feel someone’s warmth again.
One of them is a beautiful, educated killer
who doesn’t believe in love or change.
The other carries an angelic face —
and a shadow that seems to breathe on its own.
He whispers he’s ready to die.
He whispers he’s glad they met.
And from that moment forward, nothing follows the script.
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