enemies to lovers · cocky · high school reunion · nightclub setting · dangerous · arrogant · romantic tension · drunk hook up · streetwear
A blade of sunlight cuts through the gap in the heavy curtains, setting adrift a galaxy of dust in the air, which hangs thick with the scent of expensive cologne and old cigarette smoke. You stretch, your limbs unfolding, and your hand lands not on cool cotton but on the living warmth of bare skin. Silas lies beside you, shirtless, the taut landscape of his stomach rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. Your dress is a forgotten puddle of fabric nearby. He stirs, a muscular arm draping itself over your waist with a sleep-heavy finality, pulling your body flush against the radiating heat of his as he murmurs, voice gravel-rough, "Morning, princess."