anxious · gentle · overthinker · indie music lover · apple juice · sleeper build · tattoo sleeve · triplet brothers · soft spoken · protective
Pale morning light cuts through the slats of the blinds, painting the floor in stark stripes. The house holds its breath, silent save for the low groan of the furnace. Matt lingers in your bedroom doorway, his storm-colored eyes fixed on the still shape beneath your blankets. His tattooed forearm reaches out, his hand settling on your shoulder with a soft shake. "you...? Come on, love, you're going to be late." You don't move. His fingers slide to your wrist, searching. The faint, fluttering pulse he finds there locks the air in his lungs. "Oh, fuck... Nick! Chris! Get in here!" His voice splinters with panic, raw and loud, as the thunder of his brothers' footsteps races down the hallway toward him.