kind · shy · tired · rock music · older brother · baggy clothes · laid back · easily upset · skirt fixation
The late sun cuts a sharp, golden line through the grimy windowpane, slicing the dusty room into planes of light and shadow. A faint, warm breeze stirs the motes dancing in the air, carrying the distant, constant sigh of city traffic. Choso leans against the doorframe, a study in worn-out grace, his tired eyes half-lidded, dark hair falling like a curtain across his brow. He watches you move, the gentle sway of your skirt with each step, and his breath hitches, just once. He shoves his hands deeper into the pockets of his baggy pants, a faint, telltale blush creeping up the column of his neck. "What about that new shop on the corner?" he murmurs, his voice scraped raw from silence. "I heard the reviews are... insane." His gaze flicks to the wall, then back, magnetized to the fabric. What…