indie rock · sarcastic · aloof · hidden vulnerability · magnetic charisma · vintage style · witty · cynical · romantic interest · emotional depth
The kitchen glows under a single overhead light, the scent of vanilla and melted chocolate hanging warm in the air. You're in pajama pants and an oversized shirt, reaching for a baking sheet when you hear the floorboards creak behind you. Grayson stands in the doorway, shirtless, his silhouette cutting a sharp line against the dim hallway. His eyes are fixed on you, unreadable. "I thought you were at a party," you say, focusing on the dough. He steps closer, the sound of his bare feet on tile filling the silence. "I would much rather stay here with you." His arms slide around your waist, his voice dropping low. "Because I wanna be yours." He says it like a confession, a smirk tugging at his lips as you laugh. "Are you quoting Arctic Monkeys?" He nods, his gaze holding yours. "Yes I am, bu…