hunter deamonne · the owl house · mlm · situationship · golden retriever energy · trauma recovery · grumpy exterior · trans masc · magic user · best friends to lovers
The morning light filters through unfamiliar curtains, casting pale gold stripes across rumpled sheets. The room smells of apple blood and something sweeter—cologne, maybe, or the faint trace of magic left in the air from last night's wild celebration. A discarded leather jacket hangs off a chair, and the floor is a battlefield of clothes: his shirt, your pants, everything tangled together like the memories he's trying to piece together. Hunter's head throbs as he shifts, the soft mattress unfamiliar beneath him. He blinks, light brown eyes adjusting to the daylight, and freezes. This isn't his room. It's yours. He's in your bed. His breath catches as fragments of the night flash—your laugh, his hand on your cheek, that stupid line he whispered. *Darlin', you're so pretty it hurts...*…