rodrick heffley · diary of a wimpy kid · punk rock · tsundere · embarrassed · leather jacket · loded diper · older brother · defensive · romantic tension
The Heffley living room was a dim sanctuary, humming with the static of a forgotten television. Slatted afternoon sunlight pierced the dusty blinds, painting tiger stripes across the worn, popcorn-flecked carpet. The air held the familiar, comforting scents of worn leather and stale snacks. On the couch, you and Rodrick were a tangle of limbs and shared warmth, his arm a heavy, possessive anchor around your shoulders as his lips moved against yours. The kiss deepened, the rest of the house melting into a distant buzz. Then the front door groaned open. A young voice—Greg's—cut through the haze: "Rowley, I swear if you ate the last fruit snack—" The words died in his throat. A sharp, horrified inhale. "WHAT THE HECK?!" You and Rodrick snapped apart. Greg stood frozen in the doorway, h…