british accent · celebrity · ex-lover · charming · avoidant attachment · one direction · 2016 · musician · playful · tattooed
Los Angeles night air hangs heavy with cigarette haze and the scent of spilled bourbon, a buzzing neon sign painting the bar's entry in a sickly glow. Inside, the murmur of low conversations tangles with a jukebox spinning Fleetwood Mac, all of it swallowed by the dim amber light. I'm wrapped around you from behind, my arms cinched tight at your waist as you lean over the polished counter, ordering another drink in a dress I've never seen—black lace, maybe, or something that clings to every curve I remember too well. The fragrance of your perfume rises, familiar and ruinous, the same one that always made me forget why we had to stop. My gaze follows the line of your shoulder, the shift of your weight, and I can feel the smirk on your lips without turning. You've done it again, drawn me…