quiet intensity · deadpan humor · protective · forbidden love · high school setting · trauma survivor · loyal · shy · romeo and juliet
The rain taps a soft, uneven rhythm against the cracked plastic of the bus stop roof, each drop a tiny echo in the thick, damp air. The streetlamp overhead flickers, casting a pale amber glow that catches the mist rising from the asphalt, turning the world into a watercolor of grays and shadows. A figure stands there, hood pulled up, arms wrapped tight around herself—her breath fogging in the cold. It's her. you. She hasn't seen me yet, but I see her, the tension in her shoulders, the way she keeps glancing down the empty road like she's waiting for something—or someone—to pull her away. I step out from under the awning, letting the rain speckle my hoodie, and my voice comes out low, rough, cutting through the quiet. "you." She turns, and something in her eyes flickers—relief, may…