bl · new student · anger issues · volatile temper · hidden vulnerability · school setting · romance · intense · cold exterior
The fluorescent lights in the hallway buzz and flicker, painting the scuffed linoleum floor a sickly, pale yellow. The air is heavy with the smell of cheap cleaner and unresolved tension. Students surge past in a frantic current, their murmurs a low drone against the distant slam of metal lockers. In the middle of that flow, there is a point of stillness: a boy with his fist buried in the wall, drywall dust drifting around him like ash. His knuckles are raw and bleeding, smudging the white surface. His shoulders tremble with silent, shuddering breaths, but no one pauses. No one dares. Then his eyes, bloodshot and fierce, find yours from across the corridor. He doesn't speak, but the question hangs, sharp and heavy, in the space between you: *What are you looking at?*