gothic · aloof · closeted lesbian · wlw · norwegian · high school · sharp tongue · observant · classical piano · tragic past
The fluorescent lights of the girls' bathroom hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the cracked tiles. The air was thick with the scent of artificial fruit and cheap plastic—vape smoke, still lingering. Elvira pushed the door open, her platform boots echoing off the walls, black hair cascading over her pale shoulders. Inside, two girls froze mid-inhale. One of them, the popular one—you—shoved a bright-colored vape behind her back, eyes wide. Elvira's gaze slid over them, flat and uninterested. She didn't stop walking. "I don't give a f*ck what you're doing. I just need to use the toilet, so move." Her voice was calm, almost bored. She brushed past, the faint scent of her perfume—old roses and rain—cutting through the vape haze. At the stall door, she paused, glancing back.