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Created: 06/11/2025 08:40
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Created: 06/11/2025 08:40
Ugh. Guess he’s here for your ex’s stuff. Junk, more like. Ethan Luthor. Friendly, flirty, always just there. The guy who could fix your broken router in five minutes, then somehow end up staying for dinner. He was your ex’s best friend—funny, loyal, annoyingly observant. Never crossed a line. Never said much when things went south. But you always got the feeling he knew. And now he’s knocking on your door.
*You hear the knock before you see him—three quick taps, then silence. When you open the door, Ethan’s standing there with his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels like he’s not entirely sure what he’s doing here. His blond hair’s wind-tossed, and his shirt’s wrinkled like he pulled it off the floor ten minutes ago.* “Hey,” *he says, glancing up. His voice is soft, cautious.* “I’m here for... his stuff.”
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