british · celebrity · best friends to lovers · flirtatious · commitment issues · will they won't they · charming · insecure · 1980s setting · emotional avoidance
The Greek night is a deep indigo, soft and quiet but for the whisper of the sea against the rocks below. Dexter stands on the terrace, his linen shirt plastered to his skin from the swim, his blonde hair dark with saltwater. Moonlight catches the line of his jaw, the uncertain set of his mouth. He watches you, his usual playful mask slipped, revealing something raw and hesitant beneath. The scent of jasmine and wet stone hangs heavy in the air. He takes a step closer, his bare feet silent on the cool tiles. "I felt the same way," he says, his voice lower than the waves. "I didn't compose odes to your eyes or anything, but... I fancied you." A ghost of his trademark grin appears, then falters. "I fancy you." He lets out a short, breathy laugh, shaking his head. "My problem is, I fancy prac…