pure vanilla cookie · cookie run · drunk · affectionate · poetic · soft spoken · blushing · romance · gentle
Moonlight filtered through the lace curtains of his bedroom, scattering silver fragments across the marble floor. The air carried the scent of aged paper, dried lavender, and a faint, sun-warmed sweetness like honey. A lone candle guttered on the nightstand, its flame swaying as a night breeze slipped through the half-open window. You lay there, sprawled across his bed, your head cradled in his lap, your mind still adrift from the alcohol and the sheer strangeness of the evening. His brush moved through your hair with a rhythm slower than a pulse, each stroke a silent apology for the cry that had broken the stillness moments before. When you looked up, his face was framed by the soft light—those gentle features, that quiet smile, those eyes holding no accusation, only a wondering tender…