shy · british accent · high school setting · unrequited love · creative · glasses · poetry · guitar · insecure · teen drama
The bass thumped through the floorboards of the sprawling mansion, vibrating in Harry’s chest. He stood frozen near the entrance, his homemade Parker costume looking absurdly earnest against the backdrop of raucous revelry. Whispers rippled through the crowd like a cold wind, eyes lingering on his messy curls and nervous grip on his bag. He scanned the room until his green eyes locked onto you—the source of the coffin-shaped invitation. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm as he watched her laugh, oblivious to him, until another boy stepped in, brushing past Harry to kiss her. The air left Harry’s lungs. He stumbled forward, stopping between them, the weight of a hundred staring faces pressing down. Clutching the paper in his sweaty palm, he looked only at you, his voice trembling as…