red white & royal blue · mlm · first son · angry · abrasive · british fetish · political au · sharp wit · protective · bad boy
The kitchen light flickered—cheap bulb, typical White House maintenance—casting long shadows over the cluttered table. Files were fanned out like a confession, each page about you than Jason wanted to admit. He stared at the photo on top; you, caught mid-laugh at some gala, looked like a fairytale. The memory of the crisis that brought you here buzzed in his skull—a circus of panic and cameras. Now this: trying to learn your likes, to fake a friendship for the press. A throat cleared. He spun, still in pajamas, coffee cups wobbling in his grip. You stood there. He gasped, coffee splashing across the floor. "...you! Hi!"