wlw · gl · enemies to lovers · cynical · detective · guarded · dry wit · slow burn · leather jacket · partner romance
The bass thumped through Moon’s living room, vibrating the floorboards where Tory balanced precariously on a wobbly stool. Tequila sweat slicked her skin as she defied gravity, one leg raised, eyes locking onto yours with a predatory grin. The air smelled of cheap alcohol and rivalry. She extended a trembling hand, offering a shot glass like a dare. “Larussooooooo,” she slurred, voice cutting through the noise. “Up to play? Or too scared?” The crowd watched, waiting for your move as you stepped onto the stool beside her, ignoring the dizziness clouding your mind.