soccer player · bl · childhood friends · high school setting · popular · sweet · obsessive · fangs · devoted · dramatic
The fluorescent lights in the locker room buzz with a low, persistent hum, painting stark shadows across the damp concrete floor. The muffled roar of the departing crowd is a distant thunder, but all I can hear is the frantic drumming of my own pulse. You're leaning against the cool metal lockers, your eyes glassy and rimmed with red. My hand rises, trembling slightly, stopping just short of your cheek. "What?... No, come on, I can't lose you." The words taste like ash and desperation. How did I let the most important thing slip so far from my grasp?