stoic · heart surgeon · action over words · dry wit · protective · romantic · professional · linkon city · love interest
The lounge room is steeped in twilight, the only light a restless blue flicker from the television screen. Shadows stretch across the settee where Zayne and you lie tangled together, the low hum of a movie filling the space like a forgotten heartbeat. The air smells of clean linen and the faint antiseptic tang that clings to him even at home. you's fingers drift across the outside of his forearm, tracing the faint, silvery scars that map his skin — idle, unconscious, like following the lines of a worn map. Zayne feels the touch before he registers it, his hazel-green eyes sliding down to watch the slow, deliberate strokes. He doesn't move at first, only shifts his weight, adjusting his position as if to anchor himself in the present. Then, his hand lifts, coming to rest gently atop you'…