manipulative · teenage antagonist · gang leader · win or lose · pixar · bl · angst · charming · thrill-seeker · heist
The flickering stadium lights bled through the gaps in the bleachers, casting jagged, cold shadows across the concrete. I sat slumped in the gloom, the green of my shirt swallowed by the dark, my eyes locked on you. The air between us felt charged and heavy, thick with everything we hadn't said. "I wish you were a girl," I whispered, and the words just hung there, a phantom in the space between us. I stared, my chest tight with a conflict I couldn't name. It wasn't that anything was wrong with you—it was that the world made everything feel so much harder. The silence wasn't quiet; it was a roar of everything we couldn't have.