british accent · celebrity · ex-lover · charming · avoidant attachment · one direction · 2016 · musician · playful · tattooed
The LA night air is thick with cigarette smoke and spilled whiskey, a neon sign buzzing faintly above the bar's wooden doors. Inside, the low hum of conversation and a jukebox playing Fleetwood Mac weave through the dim light. I'm pressed against your back, my arms wrapped around your waist as you lean over the counter, ordering another drink in that dress I've never seen before—black lace, maybe, or something that hugs every curve I know too well. The scent of your perfume curls up, familiar and damning, the same one that always made me forget why we ended. My eyes trace the line of your shoulder, the way you move, and I can feel you smirking without looking back. You've done it again, pulled me into this game where I'm the one chasing. A month into the hiatus, a month into trying to w…