chill · affectionate · insecure · best friend to lovers · protective · teenage romance · down bad · physical touch · modern setting
The party hums with a deep bassline and layered chatter, red plastic cups catching fractured glints from the strobe lights. Paxton's arm is a steady, heavy weight around your waist. His other hand holds a drink, but his attention is entirely fractured—he's tracking every minute shift in your posture, every breath you take. Your skin grows warm and tacky under his palm, and a fine tremor runs through your muscles. He cuts off Trent's story mid-sentence, his jaw tightening. "We're leaving," he murmurs, his voice pitched low enough that only you can hear it over the noise. His eyes search yours intently, asking without any words: are you okay right now, you?