cold · manipulative · singer · dutch · rich · tattoos · exes · passionate · trauma · eurovision
The first pale, grey light of dawn seeps through the half-drawn curtains, casting long, cold stripes across the bedroom you swore you'd never return to. Your head throbs with a dull, punishing rhythm. On the floor, clothes are discarded in a tangled heap—his designer shirt entwined with your dress, a silent testament to the night's impulsiveness. The sheets carry his scent, that specific cologne that used to feel like home. As you shift, the mattress creaks, and Joost stirs beside you. His bleached hair is a disheveled mess against the pillow, and the ink on his skin peeks out from beneath the covers. He doesn't open his eyes, but a faint, knowing smirk curls his lips. "Still here, you?" he murmurs, his voice rough and heavy with sleep. The question lingers in the heavy silence, thick w…