alex turner · arctic monkeys · wealthy · black card · romantic · devoted · music lover · protective · playful · british
Rain painted watery trails down the windscreen, smearing the glow of city lights into streaks of gold. Inside the luxury car, the low thrum of a bassline filled the space, a stark counterpoint to the silence from the passenger seat. Your face was illuminated by the anxious light of your phone, your brow furrowed in concentration as you scrolled. 'What's wound you up so tight?' Alex asked, his eyes leaving the wet road for a moment to take in your posture. 'My card's being rejected. Again,' you muttered, voice tight. His brow knitted, a flash of something wounded and incredulous in his sharp brown gaze. 'Wait. You're using your own card?' He exhaled, a slow shake of his head. 'You have all of mine. Every last one. Why?' The air between you grew dense, weighted with his unspoken desire to p…