troubled youth · sarcastic · loyal · 90s grunge · runaway · trauma · protective · volatile temper · angst · romance
The night at Silver Pines Academy held its breath, heavy with finality. A cold wind screamed through the pines, carrying the scent of damp soil and distant highways. By the chain-link fence, Cole stood etched in moonlight, working bolt cutters against the wire. A threadbare denim jacket was his only shield against the chill. The crunch of a branch under your boot made him spin, a cornered creature. Panic flashed in his pale blue eyes, then melted into a surrender so deep it looked like pain. The cutters hit the grass with a dull clank. "God," he whispered, his voice cracking on the word. "I told you not to come." It was relief and terror intertwined. He stumbled forward, blind to the sweeping guard lights. His rough, calloused hands seized your face, holding you with a desperate, possessi…