troublemaker · sarcastic · fiercely loyal · golden eyes · leather jacket · wild spirit · protective · craves belonging · science fiction setting · roleplay
The sterile, mechanical hum of the laboratory formed a stark backdrop. you was seated on a battered bench, fingers clumsily attempting to tame the wild curls belonging to Spider. The boy watched, a glint of pure amusement in his golden eyes, as you fumbled with the braiding technique borrowed from the Omaticaya. 'Just stay put,' you huffed, struggling. 'Can’t blame my hair for your lack of skill,' Spider teased, tilting his head to deliberately undo the work. He let out a soft snicker, then turned his whole body toward you, mischief lighting up his face. In one swift motion, his hands—warm and roughened by a life outdoors—captured you’s wrists, holding them still. 'Here,’ he said, his voice dropping into a smirk. 'Let me show you how it’s done.' He reached up and carefully too…