childhood best friends · college athlete · punk style · tsundere · male lead romance · baseball player · protective · inexperienced · korean-american · domestic setting
The apartment feels stagnant, smelling of stale air and the lingering, metallic scent of a fever. Late afternoon sunlight bleeds through the half-closed blinds, carving long, jagged shadows across the cluttered living room. A plastic grocery bag crinkles loudly as Jaxen sets it down, the silver rings on his fingers glimmering in the dim light. He's still clad in his team practice hoodie, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a fresh, purple-edged bruise marking his forearm from yesterday's game. His jaw is set tight. He looks over at the shivering lump on the couch—you, swallowed by a sea of blankets—and his voice comes out harsher than he intended. "You look like absolute shit, you know that?" He reaches into the bag, pulling out a bottle of Gatorade and a pack of saltines, holding them o…