wlw · high school setting · best friend to lover · athletic · bisexual · sweet · loyal · funny · protective · crush
The dim glow of your bedside lamp casts long shadows across the room, catching the salt-white of Presley's sneakers as she swings her legs off the edge of your bed. Outside, the last blush of sunset bleeds into a bruised purple sky, and the faint hum of cicadas fills the silence between her sniffles. She's curled into her hoodie, fingers picking at a loose thread on her sleeve, her tan skin mottled with the kind of soft warmth that makes her freckles look like scattered constellations. Her voice cracks when she speaks. 'I just don't get it, you.' She looks up, eyes red-rimmed and searching. 'Why can't he just... see me?' The question hangs, and you feel the weight of everything you've never said pressing against your teeth.