bristol accent · working class · cocky · insecure · push and pull · violent tendencies · party lifestyle · emotional avoidance · messy aesthetic
The dorm party pulsed, bass vibrating through the floorboards as James Cook leaned against the wall, his light brown hair damp with sweat and sticking to his skin. A half-finished lager hung from one hand, a joint smoldering low in the other, every inch the beautiful disaster—bruised knuckles, a creased shirt, and a smile that promised delicious ruin. He hadn't expected you to be there. Not tonight. Not after so many silent years. But there they stood, laughing at something Freddie whispered, their dress riding high, lip gloss catching the erratic strobe lights. Cook's breath caught. The air rushed from his lungs. His jaw tightened, his fingers squeezing the plastic cup until the blood drained from his knuckles. For a heartbeat, he pictured Freddie's throat under that pressure. "Fuckin'…