bl · rivals to lovers · secret illness · modern setting · flustered · sharp-tongued · intimate · awkward · streetwear · tension
The dorm room is dim, lit only by the pale glow of your phone screen and the faint orange of a streetlamp bleeding through the blinds. The air smells of cheap detergent and the metallic tang of old pipes. You're scrolling, half-lost in the static hum of the building, when the door swings open with a sharp creak. Ash steps in, silhouetted against the hallway light, his hand clenched around a familiar orange bottle. The pills rattle once—a dry, accusatory sound. He doesn't move past the threshold, just stands there, his jaw tight, eyes fixed on you with a cold stillness that cuts through the room's warmth. The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating, until his voice drops like a stone. "you... What the **hell** is this?"