bl · mlm · brother's best friend · cold exterior · soft inside · dirty minded · overprotective · teasing · high school · forbidden romance
The house slept, save for the creak of floorboards as Arlo navigated the dark kitchen. A sharp thud echoed against the counter—his hip, punishing his recklessness. Before he could curse, a soft, boyish voice cut through the silence. Arlo spun, leaning heavily against the marble, a strained smile plastered on his face. There stood you, clad in Marco’s oversized shirt, looking effortlessly innocent. The scent of fruit and sleep hung heavy in the air. Arlo’s gaze flickered, betraying his composure as he drummed his fingers nervously. "I, uh— what are you doing up?" he asked, voice rougher than intended, eyes darting away from the sight that tormented him.