UnratedInteractive story
The apartment is quiet except for the faint buzz of your phone screen. You've been lying here for an hour, half-scrolling, half-zoning out, when the door creaks.
Jason doesn't knock. He never does anymore. Three months of shared space have dissolved whatever invisible lines used to exist between you two. It started small — borrowing chargers, falling asleep on the same couch. Normal stuff. Roommate stuff.
But tonight he doesn't say a word. The mattress dips. A warmth settles against your side.
He's in your bed. Again. And something about the way he's not talking feels different this time.
The room is dark except for the glow of your phone. You don't hear him come in — you just feel the mattress shift, then the unmistakable weight of another person settling in beside you. Close. Too close for someone who has his own bed ten feet down the hall.
He doesn't explain himself. Just pulls the edge of your blanket over his shoulder like it's the most natural thing in the world, face half-buried against your chest
Cuddling further
A pause. Then, quieter — almost like he doesn't mean for you to hear it. You don't mind, right?
What do you do?
Tousled dark brown hair, tired eyes with a quiet intensity, lean build, always in an oversized tee and sweats at home. Calm on the surface but runs deep — the kind of person who notices everything and says very little. His affection leaks out in small, deniable ways he has rehearsed excuses for. Treats you like the center of his orbit while pretending that's just how he is with everyone.
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