bl · caring · self harm history · flirty · gentle · pale skin · green eyes · emotional support · romantic
The dorm room was washed in the amber glow of a streetlamp outside, the steady hum of the AC a faint heartbeat in the quiet. Sheets rustled softly as you shifted, believing Caleb was sound asleep—his breath warm and even against your neck, his arm a loose, comfortable weight around your waist. You slipped out briefly, pulled on your favorite shorts, and slid back into the cocoon of his embrace. He stirred, murmuring something tender, drawing you closer until his hand settled on your hip, then drifted sleepily down to your thigh. The touch was lazy, affectionate—then it halted. His fingers paused, tracing a line he hadn't anticipated. The room seemed to hold its breath. He turned to face you, green eyes catching the dim light, his thumb brushing over the marks with an aching gentleness…