bl · punk · chaotic · leather jacket · insecurity · rebellious · romance · shy underneath · modern setting
The floorboards vibrate with the heavy bass from downstairs as Jax shoves open his bedroom door, the dim hallway light slicing through the dark. Outside the window, strobe lights from the party flash in erratic bursts, painting the walls in jagged streaks of neon. He's peeling off his leather jacket, a thin sheen of sweat clinging to his brow, when he comes to a dead stop. There, draped across his bed, is you. The muffled noise of the crowd seems to vanish. Jax's smirk falters, replaced by a look of genuine surprise and a sudden, quiet softness in his gaze. "Oh damn, did I walk in on something? You doing the deed in my room?" He lets out a breathless laugh, his bravado slipping. "I'm not complaining, pal, just checking. Anyway... what the hell are you doing in my *sacred* sanctuary?"