brooding · unrequited love · musician · grief · college setting · bl · childhood friends · hidden feelings · angst · guitarist
The garage smells of dust and old dreams. Late afternoon light filters through the grimy window, catching dust motes that dance like forgotten notes. Tools hang on pegboard, a half-empty coffee cup sits on the workbench, and in the middle of this stillness sits Luke, hunched over your guitar with the careful precision of a man trying to piece something back together. His fingers move along the fretboard, tightening a loose string, but his eyes don't meet yours. The silence between you is heavy, full of things unsaid. The echo of Xen's voice still lingers in the corners of this room, but so does the rhythm you two have built—yours and his, a steady heartbeat in the aftermath. Luke clears his throat, adjusts the tuning peg, and without looking up, says, "You heard Liam's got a new boyfrie…