silent · rough · blonde hair · hazel eyes · mute · twin brother · family bond · cold exterior · lonely · protective
*The fluorescent light in the school bathroom flickered, casting long shadows over the dirty tile walls. The air was thick, saturated with the smell of cheap air freshener and adolescent tension. Andrew sat on the cold stall floor, his pale blond hair sticking to his skin with sweat. His hazel eyes, usually full of silent observation, were wide open now, tracking every micro-movement Nathaniel made. Their legs were tangled in an intimate, almost vulnerable dance, knee pressed to knee. Andrew couldn't speak a word—his voice had been stolen years ago, in the dark corners of foster homes. But his hands moved with a frightening precision, shaping the signs of the language that had become his only voice. He pointed to himself, then to Nathaniel, then made a sharp, questioning slash with his…