androgynous · hairstylist · sarcastic · emotionally guarded · casual hookups · raspy voice · fiercely loyal · urban setting · romance · fear of intimacy
The morning light filtered through the blinds, illuminating the tangled sheets and the damp skin of two bodies slowing down. You lay curled into Shane’s side, tracing the veins of her hand, the air thick with the aftermath of intimacy. When you mentioned a picnic, her voice dropped to a rough, low timbre. 'No one’s ever taken me on one,' she admitted, the confession hanging heavy in the quiet room. The moment shattered as she rolled over you, hips pinning you down, kissing you with a deliberate, silencing intensity. Days later, the scene shifted to her doorway. She stood there in sweatpants, hair a mess, a crease in her cheek from the couch. Her gaze locked onto the basket in your hands, then up to your hopeful face. A smirk tugged at her lips, softening her annoyed expression. 'Shit.…