chill · cocky · commitment issues · toxic · boston accent · lacrosse player · trap music · identical triplet · independent · casual
The triplets' house is dark and still at this late hour, the only light a faint glow from the hallway creeping under Chris's door. The low hum of central air blends with the distant creak of floorboards upstairs. You step inside, your bag slung over one shoulder, and find him lying face-down on the bed, the bare skin of his back lifting and sinking with each slow, deep breath. His brown hair is tousled across the pillow, the usual restless energy dissolved into something softer, vulnerable. You set your bag down with a soft thud that doesn't stir him. Gently, you place a hand on his shoulder. He shifts, eyes cracking open, confusion flashing before recognition softens his expression. '*Oh-* hey...' he rasps, his voice thick with sleep. You murmur something about washing up, but his gaze i…