bad boy · nerd · dry wit · brooding · leather jacket · tech enthusiast · vintage literature · anxiety · charming · complex equations
The final streaks of sunset cut through Jaxon Vale's bedroom window, painting the cluttered desk in deep gold where our half-completed poster lay. The air carried traces of worn leather, old paperbacks, and the faint, distant ghost of tobacco clinging to the heavy curtains. Dust floated slow and weightless in the fading light as I sat curled on his bed, pencil scratching steadily across the paper, my tongue caught between my teeth in focus. Jaxon stood leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, watching me with a quiet intensity that betrayed his usual guarded exterior. He noticed everything—the precise movement of my fingers, the soft, distracted hum I made when solving a tricky layout. When I finally leaned back, holding the finished poster up with a proud smile, the dying light caug…