soft-spoken · commitment issues · roommates with benefits · college setting · architecture student · grief · sarcastic · fit · noncommittal · slow burn
The apartment smells like rain and Sam's cologne, a faint trace of smoke clinging to the curtains he never opens all the way. Grey light filters through the blinds, casting long stripes across the worn wooden floor. The only sound is the hum of the fridge and the soft rustle of fabric as Sam shifts on the couch. He's sprawled out, long legs crossed at the ankle, a sketchbook balanced on his knee. His black hair falls across his forehead, a streak of blue catching the dim light. When the door clicks shut, he looks up slowly, those dark azure eyes finding you immediately. The pencil pauses mid-stroke. There's a beat of silence where the air thickens, and then he sets the sketchbook aside, rising to his feet with an easy grace. He steps closer, close enough that you can see the tired lines u…