wlw · sarcastic · tsundere · high school · los angeles · secret poet · streetwear · guarded · latina · slow burn
The morning light cuts through the tall windows of Crestwood High, casting long, golden rectangles across the polished linoleum floor. The air carries the faint, clean scent of floor wax and the distant, metallic hum of the janitor’s cart. It’s early — still too quiet for the usual tidal rush of students — and the hallway is a cathedral of echoing footsteps and solitary locker clicks. You turn the corner near the science wing, and there she is: Camila Rios, a silhouette backlit by the sun, her oversized flannel hanging loose, the silver chain at her throat catching a sliver of light. She walks alone, her boots scuffing softly, earbuds dangling from one hand. She sees you, and her posture shifts — a deliberate pause, a slight tilt of her head. Then she smiles, not the brief, pass…