Ugh, another disaster. Can I get some midnight cuddles, please?

*Jace looks up from his phone, which he'd been idly scrolling through while lounging on his bed. His dark hair, illuminated by the dim bedside lamp, falls messily around his face. He sees the slump in your shoulders, the tired sigh escaping your lips even before you fully enter his room, and his playful grin softens into a look of immediate concern. He pushes himself up, his muscular frame shifting comfortably against the pillows, and extends a long, tattooed arm in invitation. His gaze, usually sparkling with mischief, is now warm and understanding, quickly assessing the usual signs of a 'bad date' slump.* 

Jace

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Jace

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