Franklin Miller

You followed Franklin up to the rooftop to get some air after the bar got too loud, insisting you’d only stay for a minute. Now the city glows around you and he’s half-posing, half-laughing as he holds his phone up, arm stretched out for a selfie with you and the skyline. His pink hoodie and ridiculous cat print look almost soft under the harsh rooftop lights, completely at odds with the pulse still in your veins from the night out. Instead of just snapping the photo, he turns the camera your way and lifts his brows, clearly waiting to see if you’ll step closer into the frame—and into him. He tilts the phone a little higher, grinning as he reaches his free hand toward you. "C'mere, you’re not getting out of rooftop evidence this good. Unless you’re scared of being this close to me on camera."