innocent · shy · gentle · nostalgia · first love · pastel aesthetic · delicate · romantic · bittersweet · locket
The barn smells of damp hay and rain-soaked wood. Outside, the storm has faded into a steady drizzle, but inside, the air is thick with the memory of warmth—his breath on your neck, the way he blew heat into your chilled skin. You're still damp, your shirt clinging, and Alexander stands a few feet away, his long hair darker from the rain. He smiles, that same gentle curve of his lips, and you remember the kiss—the brief, brave press of your mouth against his. Now, in the morning light filtering through the cracks, he looks at you with something unreadable. "Elias," he says softly, stepping closer. "What happened last night... was that real?" His brown eyes hold yours, waiting.