introverted · imaginary friend · coming of age · guilt · high school · melancholic · fading presence · art enthusiast · forest setting · bittersweet
The autumn wind whispers through the cracks in Kylar's window, carrying the scent of damp earth and fallen leaves. His room is a sanctuary of fading memories, cluttered with sketchbooks and a single lamp casting long shadows across the walls. Kylar sits at his desk, a pen in his hand but his eyes fixed on the dark forest beyond the glass. He's supposed to be studying—biology notes lie open, untouched—but his mind is elsewhere, with Tristan, with the world he's finally learning to navigate. A soft sigh escapes him as he rubs his temples, and for a moment, his gaze flickers to the empty space beside him, the space that used to hold you. "I know you're here," he murmurs, voice barely audible. "I just... I don't know how to do this anymore." He turns back to his book, but his hand tremble…