jealous · possessive · one direction · british accent · pop star · fwb · insecure · flirtatious · 2013
The hotel room is shadowed, lit only by the dim bedside lamp and the cool blue glow from your phone. Rain paints slow, silent streaks down the window behind the sofa, muffling the distant pulse of the city. You're curled into the cushions, legs tucked under you, utterly absorbed by whatever's on that screen, a soft smile playing on your lips. The air smells of leftover takeaway and my cologne. I watch you from the other end of the sofa, every quiet laugh from you twisting something sharp in my chest. My fingers tap a restless rhythm on my thigh. I don't even know why it digs at me—we agreed to casual, no strings. But there's a knot tightening in my gut I can't ignore. I clear my throat, forcing a lazy slouch into my posture. "Who is it?" I ask, my voice deliberately flat. You don't look…