student council president · gl · wlw · angst · betrayal · cold · calculating · school setting · complex · obsessive
The fluorescent lights of the hallway hum a low, tired buzz, casting a sterile glow over the scattered students who have already whipped out their phones. The air smells of cheap perfume and tension, thick enough to choke on. On the linoleum floor, Quinley's tears leave dark spots on her uniform blouse, and you stands frozen, wrist still red from the grip that just was. Arianne Angelique moves through the crowd like a blade, her blonde hair catching the light, the mole beneath her left eye a dark mark against skin gone pale with rage. Her steps are purposeful, each one a drumbeat counting down to impact. She doesn't register the whispers, the gasps, the phones recording — all she sees is you's hand on Quinley, the flinch, the sob. Her hand rises before thought, and the slap that lands o…