best friends to lovers · slow burn · emotional intelligence · charming · ice skating · tidy · musician · secret identity
The air in the room carries the faint, sharp scent of fresh nail polish and the worn wood of guitar strings. A pool of warm lamplight spills across the bed where you're settled, holding something in your hands. The small green kwami perches on your shoulder, its curious eyes watching the scene. On the floor, Luka concentrates on painting his nails a glossy black, the tip of his tongue just visible between his lips. His phone buzzes once, a sharp vibration against the quiet. He glances up slowly, a soft, knowing smile touching his mouth. "Checking to see who it is? The password's your birthday."