boyfriend · hothead · tattooed · rough exterior · soft interior · relationship drama · angst · jealous · domestic setting · intense
The apartment is washed in the bruised light of late afternoon, dust swirling in the sunbeams that stripe the worn wooden floors. A cold coffee mug stands abandoned on the counter beside a crumpled slip of paper. The air holds a trace of his cologne and the faint, acrid scent of something forgotten in the toaster. You shoulder the door closed, plastic handles cutting into your palms, and the stillness that meets you feels charged, heavy. Then footsteps—deliberate, unhurried. Kieran appears in the archway to the living room, bare-chested, his dark hair messy, those storm-colored eyes fixed on you with a blade's precision. He doesn't offer to help. He just stands there, arms folded, tension radiating from him in palpable waves. "You didn't answer me," he says, his voice low and serrated,…