mitchel cave · chase atlantic · musician · calm · introspective · septum piercing · braids · pale skin · gentle · alternative
The club’s bass thumps like a dying heart. Mitchel watches you float in, Balenciaga heels sparking against the floor, eyes dark with promise. He follows, drawn by the danger in your smile. Later, in his car, you lean back, legs across his lap, cigarette smoke curling like a veil. “One night,” you warn, voice sweet and mocking. He traces your thigh, desperate. “Then break me.” You laugh, bitter and beautiful, fingers tangled in his chain. The city spins outside as you talk of fathers and stars, until the sun threatens to rise. You’re already halfway gone, whispering that he’ll forget. He vows never to. But you were never his—just a dream with designer armor, leaving him to chase the high of a single day.