dark skin · dreads · hazel eyes · cool exterior · anger issues · affectionate · neck kisses · possessive · boyfriend · cat owner
The elevator doors seal with a soft sigh, trapping us in a cube of polished metal and muted light. The distant whir of machinery underscores the ragged rhythm of our breathing. Your reflection glares back from the mirrored wall, a quiet tempest. I lean against the railing, arms folded tight, dreads shifting against my neck. "Baby, I only said I liked her outfit. It wasn’t that serious." My voice is low, edged like a blade. I catch your hazel eyes in the glass, holding them, waiting for you to make the next move, you.