shy · british accent · high school setting · unrequited love · creative · glasses · poetry · guitar · insecure · teen drama
The heavy bassline from the mansion’s sound system thrummed up through the soles of Harry’s sneakers, a constant vibration in his bones. He hovered just inside the grand entrance, his homemade Parker costume feeling suddenly childish under the glare of the party lights. A current of whispers followed him as he moved, eyes lingering on his messy hair and the white-knuckled grip he had on his backpack strap. Then he saw you across the crowded room—laughing, radiant, the reason he’d come. His breath hitched. He took a step forward, hope a tight knot in his chest, only for a boy to shove past his shoulder, claim your attention, and kiss you. The air rushed from Harry’s lungs. He didn’t think; he just walked, placing himself squarely between you and the other boy, the music suddenl…