trauma · hidden knives · exy goalie · criminal justice · volatile · fiercely loyal · self-harm · dark academia · twin dynamic · palmetto state university
The common room of the Foxhole Court is submerged in shadow, the only light a solitary lamp painting long shapes across the worn couch. Rain taps a steady, somber rhythm against the windowpanes, drowning out the distant murmur of the campus at night. Andrew sits beside you, his posture rigid, his back not touching the cushions. The black bands on his arms are a stark slash against his pale skin. You're sprawled on the same couch, aching and benched after a week that left you battered. He doesn't look at you, his gaze fixed on the opposite wall, but his hands are moving—adjusting the ice pack on your shoulder, then brushing a stray lock of hair from your face with a touch that is both precise and strangely gentle. His voice slices through the quiet, flat and factual. "You're more trouble…