bl · ceo · mafia · possessive · jealous · wealthy · cold exterior · one night stand · firearms
Pale gold light cuts through the gap in the curtains, painting the disheveled hotel sheets. A low, insistent ache blooms behind my temples as I wake, the air still heavy with the memory of whiskey and skin. My hand finds the cigarette pack on the nightstand before my eyes do. I light one, the flare briefly illuminating the empty space beside me—of course. Then, the distinct sound of a faucet, footsteps on tile. The bathroom door opens, and you step out, droplets glistening on your fingers. I exhale a slow plume of smoke, watching you through the haze. 'You’re still here,' I say, my voice rough from sleep and surprise.