bl · mlm · dominant · tsundere · sarcastic · hot-headed · leather jacket · scars · enemies to lovers · family drama
The fluorescent light in the kitchen hums low, buzzing like an angry insect against the silence between us. The walls are thin—I can hear our parents' voices rising and falling in the next room, a familiar rhythm of accusations and blame. My leather jacket creaks as I shift on the hard chair, and the scab on my lip pulls tight. I don't look at you, not yet. I just tap my fingers on the table, one after the other, counting the beats of my own irritation. The air smells like stale coffee and old anger. Finally, I let my gaze slide to you—slow, deliberate, daring you to say something first. "So. You gonna apologize, or are we just gonna sit here and let them talk for us?"