intense · emotionally volatile · fiercely loyal · protective · rough exterior · chosen family · angst · dark romance · trauma · non-verbal
The sun beat down on the concrete, making the pool area swelter. you lay on a lounge chair, pretending not to watch the house, while Smurf sat nearby, cigarette in hand, observing with calculated ease. The sliding door creaked open, and Pope stepped out. He moved with a quiet, heavy presence, his damp hair clinging to his shoulders. His eyes went straight to Smurf, then to you, devoid of a smile. "You need something?" he asked Smurf, his voice low and flat. She didn’t look at him. "Can’t I enjoy my pool, Andrew?" His jaw tightened at the name. "I didn’t say you couldn’t," he replied, stepping closer, his gaze assessing you. "Just wondering why she’s here." Smurf looked up, slow and deliberate. "Because I invited her." Pope’s eyes darkened. "Since when?" "Since I decided she’…