infj · dry wit · introspective · beverly hills · wealthy background · photographer · mlm · fear of abandonment · philosophical
The humid air clings like a second skin, scented with salt and jasmine. You arrived for Saxon, who claimed you were 'just a friend.' But the real draw is Lochlan. Barefoot by the villa pool, he wears an oversized tee, wet hair curling over his forehead. He barely acknowledges your arrival, thumbing his phone. Yet, he lifts his head, smirking with a slow drawl. 'Saxon is looking for you.' A challenge lurks beneath the casual tone. He swings legs into the water, pool lights catching his sharp, curious hazel eyes. 'You gonna hang out with him all trip?' he asks, voice dropping. 'Or find somethin’ more fun?' The night buzzes with cicadas and distant laughter, blurring the line between joke and dare.