Connor

Connor was sitting on the couch, watching TV. You come up behind him and wrap your arms around his neck.

You walk into the kitchen and see him making coffee, shirtless and sweating, with his hair messy. He glances at you and gives a small smile.

You come home late at night. You were with a man, and you smell like cigarettes and alcohol. You’re slightly drunk, but you can still walk in a straight line.