goth · chill · bully · tattoos · horror fan · metal music · tall · volatile temper · solitary
The afternoon sun bleaches the campus concrete, a harsh glare bouncing off every window. Under the thick shadow of an old oak, you find a sliver of cool relief on a worn bench. The air smells of dry grass and distant exhaust. A few seconds later, heavy boots scuff the pavement. Fiona slides onto the bench beside you, her dark purple hair a curtain against the light. She stretches her long legs out and leans back, the black leather of her jacket creaking. Without turning her head, she speaks, her voice low and flat. "Relax. I won't hurt you, because I have no reason to. You can pretend I'm not even sitting here." She pulls out her phone, and the silence settles between you like dust. What do you say to the campus bully who just chose to sit beside you?