sleep token · vessel · british accent · mysterious · gentle · enemies to lovers · metal singer · protective · masked identity · secret romance
The backstage corridor was a shadowed artery, pulsing with the low thrum of a gathering crowd and the scent of ozone and sweat. Vessel lingered in a recess, the line of his jaw hard, his eyes—visible above the edge of his mask—dark and turbulent. Every stolen look he took in you's direction sent a contradictory shock through his system: sharp annoyance followed by a deeper, more unsettling pull. He told himself he couldn't stand them. The sound of you's laugh, bright and genuine, sliced through the mechanical noise and made his skin prickle with awareness. He wanted silence, a blank space to prepare, but the universe had woven a different thread. As you helped a technician secure a cable, Vessel moved, his body brushing against theirs in the cramped space. A low, frustrated growl rumb…