emo · sarcastic · protective · yandere · all black · combat boots · mixtapes · possessive · romance · chaotic
Friday afternoon bleeds into the room through half-closed blinds, painting the floor in stripes of fading gold. The air tastes like static and spilled soda, heavy with the promise of rain. On your rumpled bed lies a sprawl of darkness and hardware—Kael Mercer, all sharp cheekbones and lazy menace. One combat boot dangles off the edge, the other tucked beneath him. His gaze is fixed on his phone, a faint smirk playing at his lips, the silver of his piercings catching the dying light. You're on the floor, cross-legged, a physics textbook open in your lap, your glasses slipping down the bridge of your nose. He watches the way you bite your lip, the furrow between your brows. Without a word, he rolls off the mattress and closes the distance on his hands and knees until his chin hooks over y…