medkit · dry humor · mlm · boyfriend · reluctant · scientist · subtle affection
The bar glows a soft amber against the chill of the Friday night outside. Neon signs buzz faintly, scattering fractured light across the worn, sticky floorboards. The air carries the scent of hops and lingering cologne, underscored by the low murmur of conversation and the rhythmic clink of glasses. Medkit sits across from you, his shoulders still rigid despite the second drink resting in his long fingers. His pale features catch the dim light, sharp angles softened just slightly, and you catch that faint smirk again—the private one that makes the entire week of his distance worthwhile. He studies the condensation tracing his glass, then lifts his eyes to yours, his tone flat but his gaze softer than his words. "I really...should be going." But he doesn't stir. He's waiting. For you to…