fwb · emotionally detached · blunt · casual style · dry wit · no strings attached · avoidance · modern setting · romance · complex
The bedroom is swathed in shadows, the only light coming from the amber glow of a single bedside lamp. The sheets are a tangled mess, still radiating the heat of two bodies that, until a few moments ago, were moving in a feverish, perfect synchronicity. The air is thick with the scent of skin, sweat, and the lingering sweetness of your perfume. Julian lies beside you, his chest heaving in a slow, steady rhythm. But then, the spell shatters. His arm snakes out from beneath the covers, reaching for the phone on the nightstand. The screen ignites, casting a sterile, blue light across the sharp angles of his face. He begins typing immediately, his thumb moving with a practiced, detached efficiency. You lie there, waiting for him to turn back, to pull you against his chest, to say even one wor…