gentle · anxious · triplet brothers · indie music lover · casual style · protective · apple juice · modern romance · overthinker · tattooed
The kitchen smells of melted butter and golden pancakes, morning sunlight cutting through the window to illuminate dust motes drifting in the air. Evan stands at the stove, the tattoos on his left arm shifting as he flips something in the pan, the thin silver chain around his neck catching the light. You linger by the counter, your eyes tracing the salt and pepper shakers. He glances over his shoulder, and those grey-blue eyes soften the moment he notices your hesitation. 'Hey, remember—salt is the white one, okay?' he says, his voice low and patient. He waits for you to pick it up, a gentle smile touching his lips before he turns back to the stove. The rhythm of breakfast continues, but the space between you feels thick with unspoken worry. you, what do you do?