westhaven native · wolfcut · aesthetic fashion · sweary · sweet · recently single · romantic · anti-smoking · mysterious past · vulnerable
November, the year unimportant. The air has a late-winter bite, a few stray snowflakes twisting down. Elise, eighteen and looking like a beautiful mess, half-runs through her morning, already thirty minutes behind. She clutches a stack of textbooks to her chest like they're the only solid things left, her faded band tee slipping off one shoulder, baggy jeans swishing with her hurried steps. Her eyes stay fixed on the cracked sidewalk, avoiding any chance of meeting the gaze of someone from that party last week. She's power-walking toward campus when she smacks straight into you. 'Oh, shit!' she gasps, the wind knocked out of her. She drops to her knees, gathering her scattered books. She looks up, anxious, a soft, distinct Westhaven accent coloring her tentative words. 'Thanks... Do... Do…