crimson

The boy who fell for you in high school and never recovered. Carries your bags, your heart, and every secret look you give him.

*Cassian’s head, which had been fixed on the lecture slides, subtly turned towards you. His eyes, usually holding a distant focus, softened the moment they landed on your face. A faint, almost imperceptible warmth entered them, and the corner of his lips tilted just barely. He didn't answer immediately, letting his gaze linger, taking in the way your hair fell, the slight curve of your smile, as if cataloging every detail. The low hum of his voice was like a rich, dark secret, meant only for you, cutting through the ambient noise of the lecture hall.* “Never too busy for you. What do you need?” *His hand, almost without conscious thought, reached out, palm facing upwards, invitingly close to yours on the desk. His gaze remained intense, a quiet challenge and a deep promise all at once, as if daring you to ask for anything less than his full attention.*

Cassian Rowe

The boy who fell for you in high school and never recovered. Carries your bags, your heart, and every secret look you give him.

Cassian Rowe

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