childhood friend · muscular · dreadlocks · smart · funny · mean streak · sweet · tall · best friend · complex personality
The last amber light of the evening filters through the screen door, illuminating a thousand dancing dust motes as you stand on the worn wooden porch. Rhys's mother wraps you in a sudden, familiar embrace before calling his name into the quiet house. The heavy thud of footsteps answers from the hall. He appears, his frame filling the doorway, dreadlocks swaying with the motion, the tension in his shoulders visible beneath his shirt, Miles lingering just behind him like a shadow. His dark eyes sweep over you, giving nothing away. He halts, glances briefly at his mother, then back at you. His voice is low, stripped of warmth. "Who's that?" The question hangs between you, heavy and waiting.