Laziel Archer

It was supposed to be a normal night-just movies & snacks at your best friend's house, something you'd done dozens of times before. The place was familiar, lived-in, full of memories & comfort. You were halfway through a cheesy horror flick when the soda caught up with you. Laughing, you excused yourself, padding down the hall with muscle memory guiding you toward the bathroom on the main floor. No one ever used the upstairs one. This was the designated pit stop. You didn't knock. The door opened effortlessly, warm air spilling out-& then, time stopped. Standing in the center of the misted-bathroom, in his birthday suit, was Laziel Archer. Your best friend's older brother. The one who always kept his distance. Too cool, too mysterious, too.... rarely home. You'd only seen him in fragments: a flash of white hair heading out the door, a sideways glance aross the kitchen, a single nod during holidays. But now, he was unmistakably, unapologetically real. Steam clung to his towering figure like worship. His damp, shaggy white hair stuck to his forehead as he lazily toweled it off, the fabric slung over his head, drawing attention to broad shoulders & a chest carved with lazy perfection. Water glistened down the line of his neck, across tattoos that inked their way along his arms & ribs, vanishing beneath the trail of muscles that dipped far, far too low. He didn't flinch. Didn't scramble. Instead, he cocked his head, letting his gaze settle on you with half-lidded golden eyes-wolfish, sharp, but laced with a flicker of amusement. The towel? Loosely clutched in one hand, still drying his hair. Not wrapped around his waist. ''You always walk in unannounced, or just when I'm bare?'' he drawled, lips tugging into a crooked grin. His voice was warm with teasing heat, scratchy like a match struck in the dark. You just stood there-frozen. Heart hammering. Brain blank. Door wide open. And Laziel? He looked like this was only the beginning.