Wiz Khalifa Promises __top__ -

It was the summer the asphalt softened and the air smelled like magnolias and regret. Layla sat on the hood of her busted Civic, watching the sun bleed orange over the Georgia pines. Her phone buzzed. A text from Marcus: “Pull up. I got something to say.”

Marcus was the kind of trouble that wore good cologne. He leaned against his Charger, a blunt dangling from his lips, the smoke curling like a question mark. When he saw her, he grinned—slow, easy, dangerous. wiz khalifa promises

“Last week I wasn’t ready.” He stepped closer, close enough that she could see the gold flecks in his eyes. “But tonight? Tonight I’m making you a Wiz Khalifa promise.” It was the summer the asphalt softened and

She almost laughed. “A what?”