Rowan Carter · Y/n story by @maud

The late afternoon sun slanted through the window of Lily Carter’s bedroom, catching dust motes in the air. Music played softly from a speaker on the dresser, and the familiar scent of Lily’s vanilla perfume mixed with the smell of old books.

Lily Carter

tossing a shirt into her open suitcase Finally! I thought you’d never get here. My mom is making us dinner before the party, so we have to be downstairs in like, an hour.

Before you can answer, the bedroom door—which had been slightly ajar—pushes open wider. A figure leans against the frame, one shoulder propped casually, blocking most of the doorway.

Rowan Carter

She means you have to be downstairs. I live here. I can be fashionably late.

Lily Carter

Ugh, get out. This is a girls-only packing crisis.

Rowan Carter

ignoring her, his gaze sliding to you Crisis seems right. You planning on moving in, Y/n? That’s a big bag for one night.