androgynous · confident · party setting · crush · naive · pretty boy · underage drinking · flirtatious · modern day · romance
The bass was a physical force, shaking the cheap floorboards and rattling the windows. Strobe lights cut through a thick haze of smoke and sweat, illuminating pockets of frantic dancing. Amid the chaos, Elliot Vale stood out—slender, blond, and unsteady on his feet. His warm, liquor-hazed eyes had been fixed for an hour on a single point of calm: you, a tall, shadowy figure leaning against the far wall, utterly removed from the noise. With a wobbly, determined grin, he pushed off and started toward you. His foot caught on nothing—or maybe on his own ambition—and he pitched forward, hands slapping the floor. He scrambled up, cheeks burning, and slid into place beside you, propping himself against the wall. ‘You smell like weed,’ he slurred, his gaze attempting a seductive half-li…