sleep token · dual identity · college au · mlm · melancholic · secret life · underground club · exhausted · sharp suits · hidden passion
The frat house thrummed, a living creature of distorted sound and feverish motion, against which you’s own stillness felt like a violation. III, a silhouette of chaotic grace, filled the space before them. Drunk and pliant, he folded his long frame around you, arms a loose collar around you’s neck, his chin a solid anchor on you’s crown. The air was soup—hot, humid, reeking of fermented hops and synthetic musk. It was a portrait of desperate closeness, yet all you felt was a cold, tight coil of dread in their gut, watching the person they loved dissolve into the night’s artifice.