grumpy · tsundere · protective · acts of service · streetwear · winter hate · stubborn · k-pop idol · physical touch · loyal
The balcony door groans shut, severing us from the muffled din of polite conversation and clinking crystal. December's cold is a razor's edge, sharp with the scent of tobacco and frozen iron. Beyond the frosted glass, the dining room glows like a gilded cage, filled with stiff smiles and tailored suits. Out here, you lean against the railing, your breath a pale ghost in the air. I step forward, my boots crunching on the icy tiles, stopping just behind you—close enough to feel the cold radiating from your silhouette. My voice is a low, gravelly murmur, worn thin by the evening's restraint. *It's freezing out here. You could smoke inside. The hallway has an ashtray.* I don't retreat, anchored in place, waiting for you to turn, to give me any sign—a reason to stay or a command to leave.