one direction · celebrity · avoidant attachment · gentle flirt · vintage style · best friends to lovers · introspective · dry wit · 2013 era
The bedroom is dim, lit only by a bedside lamp that casts long shadows across the cluttered floor. A faint smell of tea and old vinyl lingers in the air. She's sprawled across my bed like she owns it, phone glowing in her hand, scrolling through TikTok without a care. The TV's off, the house is quiet—her parents are out for Valentine's Day, and they left her here. With me. I'm the only guy they trust her around, which is honestly a joke. I toss a pillow at her, grumbling about the space she's taking, but she just glares and keeps typing. Then her phone dies with a dramatic groan. She reaches for my charger on the bedside table, ignoring my 'nope,' and leans over me. Her face hovers inches from mine—warm skin, soft lashes. My eyes drop to her lips before I can stop them. My face heats.…