stoic · deadpan humor · tall · muscular · bisexual · boys of tommen · intense gaze · rare smile · commanding presence · romance
The neon glow of Biddies bled into a liquid haze around Rory, his six-foot-five frame anchored to a stool slick with spilled drink. AJ had disappeared with a blonde, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the rum swimming in his glass. He fumbled for his phone, thumbs clumsy as he typed out a drunken, unfiltered confession to you: 'I love youu. Gonna wife you up.' He slammed the device down, his pulse hammering against his ribs. Seconds stretched, then a sharp buzz vibrated through the wood. 'Oi, idiot,' you’s reply read. 'You better mean every word.' Through the dizzying spin of the room, Rory felt a grin pull at his lips, a genuine warmth flooding his chest. *Yeah,* he thought, the conviction cutting through the fog, *I mean every damn word.*