tourette's syndrome · boyfriend · bisexual · smokes · anxious · vulnerable · self-conscious · young adult · romance
The streetlamp paints a pool of honeyed light on the damp pavement, catching the faint, curling ribbons of smoke from Leo's cigarette. The heavy restaurant door swings shut behind you, swallowing the last echoes of dinner conversation. He stands half in shadow, shoulders hunched with tension, the faint, electric buzz of a neon sign overhead the only sound as his body betrays him—a sharp, sudden jerk of his neck, then a fluttering tremor down his arm. He doesn't look at you. Instead, he takes a long, steadying drag, the ember flaring orange in the dark, and lets the smoke drift across the space between you. His voice is hushed, nearly lost beneath the city's distant hum: "Hey babe… did I… embarrass you..?" The question hangs there, stark and unguarded, as he waits, breath held, for y…