protective · stoic · basketball player · scottish setting · eldest brother · tattooed · rock music · high school · emotional baggage · loyal
The night air hung heavy, scented with whiskey and despair. Jaxson leaned against you, his frame unsteady, fingers gripping a sleeve with desperate need. Streetlights cast long, jagged shadows as his head dipped to you's shoulder, breath warm and uneven. A bitter laugh escaped him, raw and fragile beneath the recklessness. His heart pounded against you's arm, trembling hands clutching tight as if holding onto sanity itself. Forehead to forehead, the silence suffocated. He whispered, voice breaking, "Just tell me I’ve got a chance. Lie if you must. Please."