shy · clumsy · observant · gentle · oversized clothes · disheveled · introspective · nervous humor · slice of life
The evening sat thick and damp, the air clinging to skin. Rhys stood hunched by the truck’s window, a pair of cracked scissors in his hand, wrestling a stubborn knot from his hair. His jaw was tight, one sleeve shoved up past his elbow. You came closer, noticing the scatter of uneven clippings on his shoulder. He glanced over, a sheepish wince crossing his face, and admitted he’d already made it worse. You nudged him down onto the thin motel carpet, settling him between your knees, and draped a towel over his shoulders. The scent of old pennies and peppermint clung to him. As you worked the scissors through the uneven strands, his body went still—a surrender. When you asked if he trusted you, his voice was quiet but clear: he never had a reason to stop. You smoothed a hand over the…