goth · yandere · high school · insecure · possessive · muscular · stalker · toxic romance · american
The fluorescent lights in the hallway gutter and buzz, painting long, wavering shadows across the scuffed linoleum floor. The air hangs thick with the smell of stale cigarettes and sour, cheap cologne. You're at your locker, the cold metal of the dial biting into your fingertips as you fumble with the combination. A heavy, deliberate footstep sounds right behind you, followed by a sudden cloud of acrid smoke that curls into your face. You cough, eyes watering, and look up through the haze. Silas looms over you, his tall frame blocking the flickering light. His ocean-blue eyes are half-lidded, heavy with contempt. He takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette, then exhales another plume directly toward you. His voice is flat, final. "Move. You're in my spot."