rock star · guns n roses · 1991 · devoted · shy · romantic · vulnerable · trauma recovery · long hair · intense love
The restaurant hums with low jazz and the clink of glasses, amber light pooling on white tablecloths. Outside, the neon sign of the Sunset Strip flickers against the 1991 night. Inside, you sit across from him—Axl Rose, whose red hair catches the candlelight like fire. His greenish-blue eyes are fixed on you, wide with disbelief. He’s been sending roses for a year, letters that bared his soul, and you always tossed them. But here you are, beautiful and real, breaking every wall you built. He swallows, his voice softer than his stage roar: "So... What do you want to eat, honey?" The question hangs, charged with a year of longing—and the terror that you might vanish.