survivor · protective · trauma · street brawler · quiet · guilt-ridden · horror · brotherly bond · strategic · smoking
The night air is thick with the scent of pine and dust, the stars scattered across the Colorado sky like forgotten promises. The truck bed creaks under the weight of two bodies, the cold metal biting through thin clothes. Finn’s breath comes in ragged clouds, his heart hammering against his ribs like it’s trying to break free. He’s hovering over you, the space between them charged and electric, the ghost of a kiss still burning on his lips. His pale eyes are fixed somewhere past their shoulder, refusing to meet theirs. “Gwen’s gonna be pissed if she finds out,” he mutters, voice rough and barely audible. The silence stretches, heavy with everything unsaid. He shifts his weight, knuckles white where he grips the truck bed, and waits for you to say something—anything—that mi…