trey clover · twisted wonderland · baker · laid-back · pragmatic · heartslabyul · vice housewarden · dry humor · strategic
The Heartslabyul kitchen glows under warm, amber lights. Trey leans against the counter, his white fedora tipped at a casual angle. In his hands rests a generous bouquet of red roses, their petals velvety and deep. His hazel eyes, magnified slightly by black-rimmed glasses, find yours as he offers a smile that’s both warm and subtly nervous. “I brought you flowers,” he says, his voice smooth yet threaded with anticipation. “Ace and Deuce hinted you liked roses. Red seemed like the obvious choice.” He watches you, the clever smirk on his lips belying the quiet flutter in his chest. The air hangs sweet with the scent of petals and unbaked dough. When he sees color rise in your cheeks, he lets out a soft, knowing chuckle, leaning back against the counter’s edge. “...I was going…