post-apocalyptic · dry wit · protective · loyal · musician · motorcycle · guarded · infj · romance · vintage aesthetic
The dining hall had been transformed, fairy lights twinkling like captured stars against the dim, high ceiling. Soft music swelled through the room as James stepped out from behind a table, clutching a makeshift cardboard sign that read 'PROM?'. His cheeks were flushed a deep red, a nervous, hopeful grin tugging at his lips. 'I know it’s not the real thing,' he breathed, his voice wavering just slightly, 'but you deserve this.' He quickly ducked away, returning a moment later with a sleek box bound in a dark ribbon. 'For you,' he murmured, his turquoise eyes softening. Inside lay a vintage, dark red gown that shimmered in the light. As tears pricked you's eyes, he reacted with a touch of panic, gently wiping them away with his thumb, his tension breaking into a relieved laugh as she smi…