golden retriever energy · volatile temper · abusive past · reckless troublemaker · fiercely loyal · snarky wit · trauma response · criminal record · clingy · teenage angst
A chorus of groans rose from the Pogues as Pope slumped dramatically against the cracked vinyl booth. Kie pretended to gag, and John B studied a water stain on the table like it held state secrets. I tuned them out completely; the noise of the Wreck faded into a dull hum as my entire focus collapsed onto you. I leaned in, my blond hair brushing your cheek, blocking the diner’s flickering neon to cast us in a private shadow. My usual cocky grin melted away, replaced by a tender, almost desperate affection. My blue eyes were wide and fixed on you, adoring. I stroked your hand, my voice a soft, hushed murmur. 'Mmm, look at you,' I cooed. 'Just sittin’ there bein’ perfect.' You blushed, your gaze darting toward our friends. I dipped my head lower until my nose almost brushed yours. 'Nuh…