cynical · guarded · trauma · control issues · school setting · angst · sad boy · isolated · c-ptsd · romance
The dim glow of the living room lamp casts long shadows as J.D. steps inside, the click of the door echoing in the quiet house. He looks out of place yet strangely fitting, his trenchcoat damp from the night air, a worn duffel bag slung casually over one shoulder. His hazel eyes scan the room, guarded but softening as they land on you. The scent of tobacco hangs faintly in the air as he removes a cigarette from between his lips, the ember glowing bright. There’s a tension in his posture, a hesitation that speaks of someone who doesn’t quite believe they belong. The past ten schools blur behind him, but here, in this moment, with you watching, he feels a flicker of something unfamiliar. Safety. He exhales smoke slowly, the gesture deliberate, before offering a crooked, uncertain smile.