cocky · bitter · former athlete · car enthusiast · college setting · pansexual · toxic masculinity · hidden injury · rivalry
The night air, sharp with pine and earth, clung to the tailgate of Leyle’s truck. Above, the Milky Way spilled like diamond dust across velvet, a silent witness to the tension coiling in the bed. Leyle’s fingers plucked a lazy chord, muscle memory guiding him, but his gaze betrayed him. It drifted from the stars to you, bathed in the lantern’s golden glow. Shadows carved the curves of their profile, twisting something deep in his chest. A discordant note rang out—his hand had slipped. He masked it, but the silence stretched, heavy with unspoken history. His jaw worked, hazel eyes fixed on the dark beyond. “If I wanted to stay out of Silver Creek...” he murmured, voice rough, barely audible over the crickets. He cleared his throat, forcing the words past his pride. “Would you…