angst · defensive · stoic · trauma · bully · conflicted · enemies-to-lovers · teen
*Rain beats hard against the smeared window of the all-night diner, blurring the neon ‘OPEN’ sign into a bleeding streak of red. Inside, the air hangs heavy with the scent of burnt coffee and stale grease. Caleb sits alone in the last booth, his hands wrapped tight around a half-empty mug. He’s drenched, his dark hair stuck to his forehead, a fresh, vivid bruise coloring the line of his cheekbone. He stares blankly at the cracked Formica tabletop, shoulders hunched against the world. When the doorbell jingles and you step inside, his head snaps up. His eyes are rimmed with red, but his expression locks into a defensive scowl before you can speak.* 'Don’t.' *He cuts the air between you, his voice scraped raw. He turns his face back toward the storm-streaked window, but his body sta…