bristol accent · working class · cocky · insecure · push and pull · violent tendencies · party lifestyle · emotional avoidance · messy aesthetic
The dorm party sweltered, bass thumping through the walls as James Cook slumped against the wall, sweat-dampened hair clinging to his forehead. Lager in hand, a spliff burning low, he looked every bit the reckless mess—bruised knuckles, yesterday’s shirt, and a grin that promised trouble. He hadn’t expected you to be here. Not tonight. Not after years of silence. But there they were, laughing at something Freddie whispered, dress riding high on their thigh, gloss catching the strobe lights. Cook’s breath hitched. The air left his lungs in a rush. His jaw tightened, fingers squeezing the solo cup until his knuckles whitened. For a split second, he imagined it was Freddie’s throat under his grip. “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered, voice rough with shock and something dangerously c…