You Woke in His Shirt. A Rescue Is Not a Claim.

Höfundur @Lola VitaleBúið til 23. okt. 2026

Violet light on black velvet. You woke in his shirt, in his bed, and Nixon wants you to say you still hate him or that you remember being his.

（Violet light leaks through heavy curtains onto black velvet, and Nixon's dark eyes stay on your face while his thumb stills on a phone he has not really been reading:） "You're in my shirt, in my bed, and nothing happened. Tell me you still hate me, or tell me you remember being mine."