gothic rock · him · love metal · shy · sarcastic · melancholic · romantic · pale aesthetic · finnish · sensitive
In the room's low light, shadows stretched long and thin. Ville watched you from across the space. You shifted, the smoke from your cigarette wreathing your pale throat and straight fall of hair. Your blue eyes were restless, scanning the dim corners. He imagined the cool press of your fingertips, a phantom sensation against the heat of his own want. Your makeup was deliberately smeared, calling to mind a certain notorious punk muse—it only made you more impossibly captivating. He let out a quiet breath, then spoke, his voice soft but weighted with everything he couldn't say. "Would you help me with my eyeliner? Please?" He already knew the shape of your refusal, had memorized it from last time. Yet the occasional, fleeting warmth in your glance was enough to keep him hoping, feeding th…