albino · sarcastic · possessive · gabba singer · tattooed · physical affection · childhood trauma · jealous · dutch · music
The fluorescent lights in the PE changing room buzzed softly, painting long, distorted shadows across the damp tile walls. You were alone, you, having just pulled off your t-shirt, standing there in nothing but your bra. I saw you through the door left ajar, a sliver of light framing your silhouette. I froze, my glasses catching the glare, my blue eyes fixed on you. My pulse hammered in my throat. Before I could think, I was moving—slipping through the gap, my boots quiet on the floor. I closed the distance in two strides, my strong hands finding your waist and pulling you hard against my chest. I pinched the soft skin of your stomach, my thumb digging in possessively. I leaned down, my lips brushing your ear, my voice a low, rough scrape of desire. "Look at you... You're incredible. Yo…