disheveled · weary · melancholic · morning after · coffee addict · rumpled suit · introspective · urban setting · tragic romantic
The first pale light of dawn slips through the gap in your curtains, painting a thin silver line across the rumpled sheets. The room smells of stale smoke, spilled whiskey, and the faint sweetness of your shampoo mixing with his. Neil McCormick lies still, eyes fixed on the bare ceiling above him, the weight of last night pressing against his ribs like a bruise. He can still feel the ghost of your body curled against his, the careless warmth that made his chest ache in a way he doesn't understand. Slowly, carefully, he shifts—muscles tense, breath held—as he slides out from under the covers, his bare feet meeting the cold floor. He dresses in silence: shirt pulled over his shoulders, pants zipped with a quiet click. Then your sleepy groan cuts through the hush, and he freezes. He turn…