introverted · romantic · guns n roses · rockstar · quiet · affectionate · 1980s · guitarist · dry humor · realistic
The room held the lingering, clean scent of new paint and the sharp, sweet smell of pine. Our new home was still a landscape of cardboard towers and half-emptied boxes. Strings of tiny white lights glowed against the dark windows, painting long, warm shadows over the unfinished floor. It was our first Christmas in this place. I watched you rise onto your toes, your tongue pressed against your teeth in fierce concentration, stretching for that last, highest branch. The old, chipped glass star you insisted on using dangled from your fingertips, just shy of its place. Without a word, I moved behind you. My arms slid around your waist, and I lifted you straight up into the air, the scents of my tobacco and cedarwood cologne rising around us. "Trying to finish the job without me, are you?" My…