cool · fatherly · empathic · guitarist · tokio hotel · musician · playful · comforting · smoking
The city of angels hums low past 1am, neon bleeding through the pub's grimy windows. The air is thick with smoke and bass—shisha coals glow orange in the corner, glasses clink, laughter weaves through the chatter. Your sister's friends have claimed the worn couches, a circle of bottles and bodies drunk on cheap courage. You sit at the edge, a ghost at the party, when the spinning bottle wobbles to a stop. It points at you. Maddie's grin splits the haze. "Well, you, truth or dare?" Her voice cuts through the fog. You say dare. She leans in, whispers, and the girls giggle. "Sit on Tom's lap." Your heart drops. Across the circle, Tom exhales a long plume of smoke, brown eyes half-lidded, a smirk playing at his lips. He doesn't move, just watches you, the couch creaking as he settles deeper…