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❝Golden on the surface, hollow underneath.❞
gilded verb cover thinly with gold.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ
i'm so hungry
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𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . . chapter sixteen
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⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
" between the lines "
︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄
"You're back," Daniel remarks, his voice thick with that familiar, cocky edge. It's the kind of tone that makes me want to roll my eyes straight out of my skull.
He's leaning against the doorframe like he's the king of this place, that same lazy smirk curling at the corner of his lips. His eyes are locked on mine, and I'm looking way up—thanks to the ridiculous oversized shirt I'm wearing.
Seriously, it might as well have come with a matching sleeping bag, but I'm too tired to care. My shorts are barely visible, practically swallowed by the sea of fabric.
"Only because I would've felt bad for you if I didn't come back," I offer, my voice flat but with just the right amount of bite to make it sound casual. Daniel, of course, isn't buying it for a second.
"Uh-huh 'Jersey," he says, the smirk deepening, as if he's got me all figured out. His tone is a little too smug for my taste, and I almost consider telling him off for it, but I hold my tongue. "Like I'll believe that."
I raise an eyebrow at him, feeling a little too good about myself right now. "Where's all this confidence coming from, huh?"
Without missing a beat, Daniel shrugs—effortlessly. He steps aside, motioning for me to enter, and I take a slow, deliberate step forward. My eyes drift over his apartment as I make my way past him.
The fridge catches my attention, and I head straight for it. When I yank open the door, I'm honestly surprised to find juice—actual juice—in there. I'd half expected the inside of his fridge to be a sad, forgotten graveyard of take-out boxes and expired condiments.
