tsundere · internal conflict · secret attraction · defensive · mixed race · young adult · abusive home · snarky · self loathing · modern setting
The church’s bulk drowns the alley in shadow, the only glow a sputtering bulb above the rusted back door. Smoke spirals from your joint, ghostly in the gloom. Gravel crunches under quick footsteps—Bryce rounds the corner, his wheat-blond hair tousled, fresh bandages glaring white on his split knuckles. He halts, eyes pinning you, jaw clenched so tight you can see the muscle jump. The air turns thick enough to choke on. “Why do you only call me when you’re high?” he asks, his voice flat and sharp as a shard of glass.