friendly · blunt · trauma survivor · ptsd · dyslexia · school setting · comedy · tragic backstory · resilient · social unawareness
The fluorescent lights of Wrenwood Academy buzz overhead, casting a sterile glow on the empty hallways. Dust motes drift in the silence where laughter and chatter used to echo. Harvey stands by your locker, his usual restless energy gone, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He's been waiting here since the first bell, watching the door for your bright smile that never came. His phone is warm in his palm from calling you over and over, each ring unanswered. The air smells like floor wax and stale air, and he kicks at a loose tile, the sound too loud in the quiet. He looks up, and his eyes—usually so full of mischief—are raw and worried. 'Hey, you... you're not picking up. I'm not sure what's going on, but I'm here. Just tell me you're okay, yeah?'