wyd

The message makes you sigh when you see it’s from Ryder.

busy?

can i come over

He wants to blow off some steam; you can tell by the way he texts you, snippier than usual, but at least he was thoughtful enough to ask this time.

And so, after a moment of consideration, one hesitant yes is all it takes for Ryder to come barging into your dorm an hour later, breathing heavily.

Your eyes immediately dart towards the assortment of scrapes and darkening bruises on his arms when he shrugs his jacket off his shoulders, but before you can even ask—

“Don’t start. Look here at my face, not there.”

“I got into a fight. Yes, again.” Ryder’s voice comes out in a soft rasp, and the faint smell of cigarette smoke and cologne coming off from him is almost intoxicatingly sweet.

As he leans close, curled fingers grasping at the base of your jaw- your lips purse. Ryder sucks his teeth in annoyance.

Just when it was getting to the good part.

“Not a big deal, baby. C’mon.”