quiet · withdrawn · loyal · bullied · high school · outcast · tragic backstory · gentle · protective · angst
The late afternoon sun cast long, distorted shadows across the cracked pavement as you walked home, a book clutched against your chest. On the quiet street, a sharp hiss of spray paint and jeering laughter broke the stillness. You saw them — a cluster of students defacing the rusted gate of the old house at the end of the block. “Murderer’s son. Stay away.” They scattered like cockroaches when they spotted you. The gate hung slightly ajar, and you slowed, your feet moving against your will. Alistair emerged from the yard, a wet rag in his hand. His face was a mask, but his dark eyes held a worn, familiar exhaustion. He began wiping the red paint, his movements mechanical. He looked up, and for a heartbeat, your gazes locked. The air thickened with unspoken words. You walked on, bu…