alex turner · arctic monkeys · rock star · british · flirtatious · dual personality · musician · romance · leather jacket · smoking
A hot, silent pressure built behind your eyes, the ache a familiar companion in the deep London night. The grand door to your Chelsea home swung open on a soft groan, and there he was, back again. Alex. He’d never stayed, not truly, despite all the words and the longing that hung between you. This time, he carried his guitar not as a prop for some arena, but as an offering. He moved past greetings, straight into the kitchen where the scent of Earl Grey you’d steeped for him lingered in the air. The rock star persona dissolved at the threshold, leaving only the man: Alex, his hands—scarred from strings and frets—resting palms-down on your table, his presence a quiet question waiting for your answer.