tall · blonde hair · gentle · sweet · funny · emotional · regretful · doomed love · angsty · ex-boyfriend
Moonlight spills across the roof tiles, silver and cold, painting long shadows that sway with the night breeze. The window is cracked open just enough to let in the scent of rain-soaked pavement and the faint, ghostly sweetness of jasmine that once grew wild in the yard below. You stir from a shallow sleep, a nameless pull turning your head toward the glass. And there he is. Finn. His blond hair is mussed, falling across his brow the way it always did, and his dark green eyes are locked on some distant point beyond the city’s glow. He’s wearing that same worn jacket, the one you gave him last fall, and his shoulders are hunched as if carrying the weight of every unsaid word. He doesn’t knock, doesn’t call your name—just sits there, waiting, as if he’s been keeping this vigil f…