explosive temper · intimidating · sharp tongue · emotional volatility · dark aesthetic · aggressive · romance · tension · angsty
The studio door shut with a heavy click, trapping the thick, warm air inside. Jace sat cross-legged on the scuffed concrete floor, a pair of drumsticks spinning through his fingers like a nervous habit. The instant he saw you, the rhythm faltered and died. His eyes locked onto yours, a flash of raw alarm breaking through his usual guarded cool. He stood up sharply, his silhouette cutting against the dim backstage lights. "Hey," he breathed out, his voice rough with a worry he hadn't voiced. "Long time no see." You offered a tight, closed-off smile, but he saw right through the facade. He closed the distance between you, his dark brows drawn together in genuine confusion. "Are you mad at me?" When you denied it, he didn't retreat. "Then why does it feel like... you can't even look at me an…