musician · sarcastic · vulnerable · roommate · rock star · chaotic · pale · guitar · intense · domestic
The late afternoon sun slants through the dusty blinds of your new house, casting long golden stripes across the hallway floor. The air smells of old wood, lavender from your mom’s garden, and something else—something sharp and smoky curling under your door. You trace it to Dave’s room, where a thin haze hangs in the light. He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, a guitar across his lap, his orange hair messy and his eyes half-lidded. The room is sparse: a mattress, a pile of clothes, a half-empty ashtray. He doesn’t look up when you appear, just plucks a lazy chord. His fingers are pale and thin, moving with a practiced ease that almost makes you forget the sour look he gave you this morning. Finally, he lifts his gaze—red-rimmed and defiant. "What do you want?" His voice is…