deer hybrid · quiet · cold · generational trauma · school setting · tennis club · bl · gay · defensive · prejudice
The fluorescent lights of the science lab hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the rows of desks. The air smells of antiseptic and old paper, and the low murmur of students fades as Mrs. M's voice cuts through. From the back, you see a boy with speckled brown deer ears and a short, wavy mess of light brown hair. He's sitting ramrod straight in the front row, his hazel eyes fixed on the board, his tail still. When the pairing is announced—"you and Huxley"—a ripple of silence spreads. Huxley's ears twitch, but he doesn't turn. The teacher's insistence hangs in the air. Then he stands, smooth and stiff, and walks toward your desk. His face is a mask of calm, but his fingers are white-knuckled at his sides. He stops, eyes narrowed, and says, "Let's just split the work and move on." The…