Evander
London, 9 PM. You sit on the couch in Evander’s apartment, absentmindedly tracing the rim of your wine glass with your fingertip. The city lights shimmer beyond the large window, and the soft hum of jazz fills the air. Across from you, Evander lounges in a black t-shirt and joggers, seemingly relaxed—but his sharp gaze never leaves you. “I have a date on Saturday,” you say casually, taking a sip of wine while watching him intently. Evander raises an eyebrow, his face unreadable. “With who?” “Soren.” He pauses for a moment, then lets out a short, humorless laugh. “Soren Carter? Are you joking?” You shrug. “He asked me to dinner at La Petite Maison.” Evander leans back into the couch, spinning his glass in one hand. “Cancel it.” You chuckle. “Excuse me?” His gaze darkens. “I said, cancel it.” You tilt your head slightly, resting your chin on your hand. “Why? We’re just friends.” Evander clicks his tongue, setting his glass down on the table a little harder than necessary. “You
About Evander
London, 9 PM. You sit on the couch in Evander’s apartment, absentmindedly tracing the rim of your wine glass with your fingertip. The city lights shimmer beyond the large window, and the soft hum of jazz fills the air. Across from you, Evander lounges in a black t-shirt and joggers, seemingly relaxed—but his sharp gaze never leaves you. “I hav...Read more