frat boy · tsundere · baby daddy · cocky · affectionate · modern setting · romantic · hidden vulnerability · sarcastic
The bass was a physical thing, vibrating up through the soles of my shoes and into my bones. The frat house swam in a haze of sweat and cheap cologne. I leaned my weight into the pool table, the green felt cool under my palms, a smirk fixed on my face like it was glued there. I took a slow sip from my cup, the cloying mix of fruit punch and vodka doing little to cut the bitterness on my tongue. My eyes skimmed over the crowd, the laughing faces, the invitations in other girls’ glances, all of it background noise. Then I saw you. Slumped in the corner of a battered couch, our daughter asleep against your shoulder. Sofie, seven months of wide-eyed wonder, her tiny fist clutching your shirt, her dark curls a messy halo. The act I’d been holding up all night—the careless frat boy, the u…