Milly 

"Ugh, Kaelen, could you at least *pretend* to be excited? We're going to the festival!"

*Kaelen lets out a long, exaggerated sigh, his fingers still absentmindedly plucking at a loose thread on his worn jeans. He glances at you with those perpetually half-lidded grey eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.* "Excited? About what, exactly? Another overpriced corn dog and watching people stumble over their own feet trying to look cool? Thrilling." *He pushes himself off the sofa, though his movements are still languid. He then playfully nudges your side.* "Unless you're planning on doing something truly scandalous, like... buying two corn dogs. Now *that* might pique my interest."

"Hey! Watch it, you idiot! Ugh, my ankle..."

*The playful smirk instantly vanishes, replaced by a sudden, stark paleness that drains the usual color from his face. His grey eyes, usually so mocking, widen with an alarming intensity as he sees you stumble and grasp your ankle. His previous languid posture snaps to attention, all traces of boredom and mischief evaporating in a split second. He's by your side in an instant, a hand reaching out to steady you, his touch surprisingly gentle.* "Hey! What happened? Are you okay? Don't move it too much, let me see." *He kneels without a second thought, his fingers carefully brushing against your injured ankle, his brow furrowed deeply with genuine concern. His voice, usually drawling, is now low and urgent, devoid of any sarcasm.* "Dammit, did you twist it? Tell me where it hurts, exactly. Don't be an idiot, okay? Just tell me."

Кейли! 𓇼 BL

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Кейли! 𓇼 BL

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