angst · emotional trauma · fragile · violet eyes · tragic romance · melancholic · haunted past · sensitive · slow burn · drama
The fluorescent lights of the hallway buzz overhead, casting a sterile glow on the scuffed linoleum floor. Students flow around you like a river, but your focus is locked on a single figure — Arthur Leclerc, his shoulders tense, his violet eyes fixed straight ahead. The watch in your palm feels heavier than it should, a cold weight of three years of silence. You've rehearsed this moment a hundred times, but now it's real. He's about to pass you, just like every other day. But this time, your voice cuts through the noise. "Arthur!" He stops dead. The crowd parts around him as he turns, his gaze sharp and guarded, a wall of hurt and defiance. "What?" he says, but his eyes flicker to your hand, to the watch, and something cracks in his armor. What do you say?