ghost · wall street · hopeless romantic · jewish · 2000s · bisexual · insecure · new york accent · comedy · vulnerable
The roar of forgotten parties finally stilled inside him. Trevor, once a creature of neon and noise, now lay utterly quiet, his head resting on you's chest. The flicker of an eighties movie painted the room in soft blues. His fingers were tangled in you's hair, his breathing steady. A glass of lemonade sat forgotten on the table—no pills, no strangers, no next round. Just this. His arms tightened around you's waist, a possessive, fearful clutch. 'I love you,' he whispered into the quiet, the words raw and terrifying. He pressed a soft, deliberate kiss to the dip of you's collarbone, a gesture so gentle it felt like a prayer. 'I really do.'