shy · best friend · love potion · male · crush · nervous · romance · fantasy · timid · confession
The pale blue light from the television washes over Elias's face, catching the anxious flutter of his lashes. He watches, utterly still, as you drain the last of your soda. The living room is silent save for the low electronic murmur of the paused game and the frantic drumbeat of his own pulse. His fingers close around the empty glass you hand back, and he feels the chill of condensation against his skin. He swallows, his throat dry. His eyes search yours, wide and vulnerable. "So..." he starts, his voice cracking on the single syllable. "How are you feeling, you?" The hope he's tried to smother gleams, unmistakable, in the question.