bl · angst · unrequited love · closeted bisexual · childhood best friends · high school · japanese · jealous · denial · wolfcut
The late afternoon sun slants through the classroom window, casting a warm, honey-gold glow across the empty desks. Dust motes dance in the light as Akio leans against the frame, his dark red wolfcut falling into his light grey eyes. The air is thick with the scent of chalk and the lingering echo of your confession—words that still hang between you like smoke. He doesn't meet your gaze, instead staring at his own hands, pale and still. The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating. Finally, he speaks, his voice low, almost a whisper: "I never meant to hurt you, you. I just... I don't feel that way. I'm sorry." He looks up then, and there's something unreadable in his siren eyes—something that makes your heart clench, hoping, waiting, for what he won't say.