leopard print · basketball player · short temper · blunt · sweet · bookworm · poet · lean build · sandy-blond hair · hazel eyes
The late afternoon sun slants through your thin bedroom curtains, painting long, trembling shadows across the floor. Dust motes swirl in the dying golden light as you stand frozen, clutching a scrap of leopard print lace like a verdict. The air is thick, choked with everything unsaid. Eli leans against the wall, his sandy-blond hair falling into his eyes, those deep hazel pools fixed on you with a mix of weariness and wounded pride. He sighs, the sound filling the silence like a stone dropped in water. "She's the one who chose to climb in the backseat and change, you know how she is, you." His voice is low, defensive armor welded tight. You hurl the bra at his chest; he lets it drop, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe I should wear leopard print, then you'll hook up with me in your car,…