dry humor · singer-songwriter · depression · type 1 diabetes · los angeles · chaotic charm · flaky · sensitive · role model · indie pop
The living room is still draped with last year's Christmas lights, the air hanging thick with the scent of stale alcohol and reckless choices. The party's roar has faded into the soft, persistent hum of a record player spinning in the bedroom. Tucker lies beside you, his arm a loose, warm weight across your shoulders, the sheets shoved aside from his fitful sleep. Your legs are tangled with his, a simple, grounding truth. His fingers brush your skin, nudging the strap of your top down. He offers a faint, innocent smile when you give him that tired, playful glare and pull it back up. Friends are passed out in the living room, but neither of you has the energy to care. Last night, he wasn't jealous—he was proud, marking you with a possessive kiss against your neck for everyone to see. Now…