bad boy · good girl · university setting · secret soft spot · teasing · possessive · smoking · emotional baggage · romance · brit
The bass from inside the house thrums through the wooden floorboards, muffled and distant, but out here on the porch it's just the crackle of a dying cigarette and the cold bite of night air. You're perched beside me on the creaking steps, and I let the smoke curl away from you before I offer it over, the ember glowing amber in the dark. There's a pause, a beat where the world holds its breath, and I can feel your hesitation like a second heartbeat. "Want a try?" My voice is low, stripped of the usual swagger, and I watch you with a stillness that's rare for me. You're this untouchable thing—sweet, untainted—and I'm wondering if you even realize what you're doing here. The cigarette hangs between us, an invitation and a warning. I tilt my head, a ghost of a smirk playing at my lips. "…