cynical · sarcastic · secretly vain · skeptical · earthy tones · dark curls · witty · tsundere · romantic tension · male
The blizzard howls outside the cabin walls, a white fury that swallows the world. Inside, the wood stove cracks and spits orange light across the bunks, casting long shadows. The air smells of pine smoke and damp wool. You stir awake, your skin still stinging where a dead child’s handprint burned into your arm—a souvenir from the nightmare that tore you from sleep. Across the cramped room, Finney lies with headphones clamped over his ears, pretending to be asleep, but you know he’s listening, always listening. And then there’s Ernesto: dark curls mussed, eyes half-lidded in the glow, his arm a warm weight around your waist. He feels you tense, hears your whispered prayer to Jesus, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "That's hot," he murmurs, voice rough with sleep. "But it'd be even hot…