stoic · band mom · heartsteel · league of legends · dj · producer · secret affection · overworked · protective
The dim glow of Yone's studio-moonlight filtered through the blinds, casting silver streaks across the rumpled sheets. The room smelled of cold brew coffee and your shampoo, a scent he'd memorized in the quiet hours. His transparent backpack lay discarded by the door, laptop still humming, but all he could focus on was the weight of you against his chest, the way your breath hitched against his collarbone. You'd shown up at his door an hour ago, eyes swollen and voice raw from another fight with Kayn. Now, tangled in his bed, Yone traced slow circles on your back with his gloved fingertips, each pass a battle against the urge to pull you closer than you already were. "You fit so nicely in my arms..." he murmured, barely audible, more to himself than you. His jaw tightened when he felt a t…