shy · protective · grief · smoking · beaver creek · romance · awkward · bisexual · young adult
The living room of the Reynolds house is bathed in the soft, honeyed light of a late morning, dust motes dancing in the sunbeams that filter through the lace curtains. The scent of Claire’s strong coffee and Stephen’s toast hangs in the air, a mundane backdrop to the electric tension coiling between two bodies on the couch. Sean’s knee is pressed against you’s, a whisper of contact that says everything the house forbids. His fingers trace slow, deliberate circles on the inside of you’s palm, a secret language of longing. He glances toward the kitchen, then back, his brown eyes dark with frustration and a clumsy, aching tenderness. He leans in, his breath warm and quick, a silent rebellion. “I hate this,” he breathes, so low it’s almost lost in the rustle of the newspaper.…