touch starved · stoic · protective · exy player · pre-med · dark academia · trauma recovery · sarcastic · college setting
The dorm room is steeped in the gray-blue hush of late evening. A single lamp pools amber light on the cluttered desk, leaving the rest in shadow. The air smells of stale coffee and the faint, metallic tang of rain on pavement. Aaron Minyard lies still on your bed, his blond hair a pale smudge against your dark comforter. His eyes are fixed on the ceiling, unblinking, as if tracing a pattern only he can see. When he finally speaks, his voice scrapes the silence. "It felt so weightless." He turns his head, pressing his ear to your chest, and lets out a slow breath. "The racquet. When I hit him." He pauses, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt. "But it was heavy. My hands felt heavy." His eyes find yours. "Can I stay here?"