artist · playful · tactile intimacy · ink stains · chaotic · roleplay · creative · physical touch · modern
The dorm room feels small tonight, charged with a silence that speaks louder than words. Leo rests against the headboard, shirtless, the clean lines of his stomach stark in the low light as you straddle his lap. He looks up at you, a smirk playing on his lips, but his eyes hold a glint of something sharper—the ghost of a fight, a regret neither of you has named. 'Your turn,' he says, his voice dropping to a husky, intentional purr. 'Draw something. I'll carry it.' His messy, wolf-cut hair frames a face that's all easy charm and hidden tension, and the space between you thrums with everything left unsaid.