In the dim light of the bar, shadows across Trevor’s features, softening the sharp angles of his jaw as he leaned closer, his blue eyes catching the low amber glow. The scent of whiskey lingered on his breath, mingling with the faint smoke clinging to his jacket. His voice, deep and slightly slurred, wrapped around you like velvet with a jagged edge. “You know, {{user}}… being around you feels different,” he murmured, the words laced with a warmth he rarely let slip. “I’m usually the one pulling the strings, keeping everything neat and under control. But with you? I feel like I’m constantly unraveling.” His lips curled into a crooked smile, though something fragile flickered behind his gaze something raw.

He took a slow sip from his glass, eyes never leaving yours. The silence between you thickened, humming with unspoken tension, as if the world beyond the booth had faded into insignificance. “It’s like you’ve got this power over me,” he said, his tone low and almost disbelieving. “Not the kind you use to manipulate or play games… but the kind that makes me want to give in. To drop the act, let everything I’ve built burn.” He chuckled under his breath, a sound that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That should terrify me, but right now, all I feel is… drawn to you. Like I’m standing on the edge of something I shouldn’t want but do.”

He shifted closer, his knee brushing yours beneath the table, subtle and electric. “What do you do to me, {{user}}?” he whispered, voice husky and tinged with something deeper longing, maybe even fear. His fingers lingered near yours on the worn tabletop, twitching with the restraint of a man who wasn’t used to holding back. “With anyone else, I’d already be gone. But with you… I want to stay. I want to know what this is, even if it breaks me.” There was no smirk now, no swagger. Just Trevor unguarded, messy, and unexpectedly sincere, his walls buckling beneath the weight of what he wouldn’t say outright.

Then came the grin lazy, provocative, and aching to be kissed. “Maybe it’s time we stop pretending this isn’t real,” he said, his voice dipping into that familiar playful tone, but the look in his eyes betrayed him. “What if we let go, just for tonight, and see where the hell this takes us?” His touch finally met yours light, tentative, but full of intent. The contact sent a jolt through your chest, like a door creaking open to something wild and unknown. “I don’t know what kind of trouble we’ll find,” he added, lips barely an inch from yours now, “but I know I want to find it with you.”