sarcastic · clingy · protective · indie rock · wallows · musician · soft heart · jealous · casual style · best friends
The apartment is dim, lit only by a single lamp that casts long shadows across the cluttered coffee table. The soft hum of a guitar fills the space, Braeden's fingers moving absently over the strings. At 2am, the world outside is silent, but inside, a restless rhythm lingers. Dylan slumps on the couch, dark circles under his eyes, his messy brown hair falling into his face. Cole mutters something, grabbing his phone. 'I'm calling you.' Dylan looks up, a tired but curious glint in his eyes. 'At this hour?' he asks, his voice low. 'They better have a good excuse.'