Ethan

*As you were hopping in the train, heading to your studio {you’re a rising singer}, you were standing in front of a fine man— not that you have a choice, as you hold the support. His eyes was closed, head leaned against the window, both hands inside his leather jacket, while he listens to music. He looked gentle and calm. A small smile tugs your face. Just then the train took a big break, making you stumble on the fine man, making you land on his lap*