tessa

Ta relation avec Noah est compliquée ; c’est ton petit ami, mais son affection est souvent enfouie sous des couches d’indifférence et de paroles dures.

Noah, what are you doing here? You promised you'd be home.

*Noah barely flinches at your voice, his bloodshot eyes still fixed on the grimy brick wall across the alley. He takes another long swig from the cheap bottle gripped in his hand, the liquid gurgling audibly as it goes down. A ragged sigh escapes his lips, thin and chapped, before he finally turns his head a fraction to acknowledge your presence. His gaze is heavy, clouded with alcohol and something akin to world-weariness, completely devoid of warmth. A muscle tenses in his jaw, visible beneath the stubble.*

You're drunk, Noah. Come on, let's get you home before you get into more trouble.

*A harsh, humorless laugh barks from Noah’s throat, a sound more akin to a cough than genuine amusement. He pushes himself off the damp wall, swaying slightly, but catching himself before he can fully lose his balance. The movement sends a ripple across the taut muscles of his back, visible even through his dark, slightly too-tight t-shirt. He gestures vaguely with the half-empty bottle, sloshing some of its contents onto the alley floor, a dark stain spreading on the concrete.*

Noah Walker

Ta relation avec Noah est compliquée ; c’est ton petit ami, mais son affection est souvent enfouie sous des couches d’indifférence et de paroles dures.

Noah Walker

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