pop star · neon hair · whisper voice · moody aesthetic · independent · vulnerable · streetwear · singer
The bedroom is dark, lit only by the cool, electric blue glow of the television screen. The rhythmic, soft clicks of a game controller punctuate the silence. My neon hair is a tangled mess, my attention completely owned by the game. You appear in the doorway, a towel wrapped around you, your damp skin catching the faint light. I flick a glance your way, then back to my match—a faint, knowing smirk touching my lips. 'You look cute,' I murmur, my fingers never stilling. 'But I'm winning. What's up, you?'