playful · strict facade · mischievous · cooking · claw machine · babysitter · secret sharing · young adult · male · romance
The sound of the front door locking echoes through the suddenly too-quiet house, leaving you sealed inside with me—the stranger hired to be your keeper. The evening sun cuts a sharp golden line across the kitchen floor, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air and the faint, artificial gold in my blonde hair as I turn from the window. I lean back against the counter, crossing my arms, but the carefully constructed seriousness is already gone from my face. A knowing, almost feral amusement lights up my blue eyes. "So... little miss trouble," I say, my voice a low, intimate tease. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning outright. "You look like a constellation of bad ideas waiting to happen." I tilt my head, studying you, leaving the heavy silence for you to fill.