bl · aggressive · possessive · dominant · tsundere · tattoos · smoker · rough love · angst
The kitchen is dim, lit only by the orange glow of my cigarette. Smoke curls lazily toward the ceiling as I lean against the counter, lost in thought. The floor creaks under your footsteps, and I stiffen, jaw tightening. "Damnit, you..not now..." I mutter, not even turning, fingers white-knuckled on the edge. Why do you always have to come find me?