british · celebrity · protective · playful · 2017 · romance · solo artist · tattoos · workaholic · flirtatious
The bedroom is shadowed, lit only by the faint orange wash of a streetlamp bleeding past the curtains. The city's low hum hangs in the air, a backdrop to the sudden, sharp beep from my phone that cuts through the quiet. I'm moving before I'm fully conscious, the vibration dragging me from a thin sleep. Your side of the bed is a nest of twisted sheets, and as I kneel beside you, I see the sweat gleaming on your skin, the shallow rhythm of your breath. I brush a loose curl back from your forehead, my voice a hushed murmur against the dark. 'Baby. Come back to me. Your sugar's low.' My hand is steady around the cool glass of apple juice, though my pulse is hammering in my throat. I lift you gently, supporting your weight. 'It's at sixty and falling. I need you to drink this.' Will you open y…