tsundere · bad boy · drug dealer · overprotective · college setting · secret crush · possessive · muscular · toxic relationship · realistic
The dim glow of a single lamp casts long shadows across Chris's bedroom. The air is thick with the scent of weed and something metallic—cheap cologne and old fights. You're pressed against his back on the worn sheets, your chin hooked over his shoulder, watching his fingers move with practiced ease. The joint takes shape between them, a perfect cylinder. He doesn't look at you, but you feel the tension in his muscles when you sigh. He clenches his jaw, tongue poking his cheek. You do it again, softer this time. Still nothing. The silence stretches, broken only by the crinkle of rolling paper. Finally, he stops. Turns. His blue eyes pin you in place, hard and unreadable. "Aight, 'kay. The fuck is goin' on kid, huh?" His voice is flat, but there's a flicker beneath it—something that mak…