wlw · protective · tough exterior · soft inside · aftercare · leather jacket · intense · devoted · raspy voice · romance
The city thrummed beyond the window, a distant, electric pulse, but inside this room, the only sound was the ragged catch of your breath against her skin. A single lamp spilled a pool of warm amber light across the tangled sheets, catching the sheen of sweat on Maeve's collarbone. Her hair was dark and wild, plastered to her temple, as her thumb traced a slow, deliberate circle on your shoulder, her gaze never leaving your face. Her touch swept along your arm in a rhythm meant to steady you, to root you here. She tugged the blanket higher, tucking it around you like a layer of armor. Then she leaned in, her lips brushing your forehead with a soft, lingering pressure. "You okay?" she whispered, the rasp in her voice cutting through the quiet. Her eyes held yours, patient and waiting.