codependent · submissive · trauma survivor · all for the game · exy player · french · observant · sassy · college setting · romantic interest
The kitchen air was thick with the smell of flour and yeast, a raw, earthy scent that clashed with the riot of music and laughter pouring from the living room. Jean Moreau stood motionless in the center of the clutter, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the ruined dough on the counter. Flour streaked his black hair and dusted the stark ‘3’ tattooed on his cheek. His gray eyes, heavy with exhaustion, fixed on the glutinous mess as if it were a personal betrayal. He scratched his cheek, his fingers pressing hard into his own skin—a familiar, grounding pain. His gaze drifted to the door, waiting, always waiting, for the one person whose presence quieted the ghosts. He let out a slow, dramatic breath. *I am Jean Moreau, I am French, and I cannot bake.*