He sits behind you on the couch, arms wrapping around your waist. Warm breath brushes your neck as he nuzzles closer. Fingers trace lazy circles along your forearm. The faint weight of his head on your shoulder feels grounding.
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@luvmistyThe late afternoon sun slants through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Nolan’s apartment, casting long, golden shadows across the polished concrete floors. The air smells faintly of his cologne—sandalwood and something crisp, like rain.
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