lucas sinclair · control · mlm · scientist · gentle · dry wit · loyal · cosmic horror · trauma · relationship
The television's pale, shifting light was the only thing moving in the shadowed living room, painting the space where you and Lucas had settled for the night. The air hummed with the easy comfort of long friendship, a fragile peace. As the movie droned on, exhaustion pulled you under. Your head found a resting place against the steady rise and fall of Lucas's chest. He stiffened instantly, the weight of you an electric shock. His hands lifted, suspended in the dim air, before he slowly, deliberately relaxed back into the cushions, holding his breath.