introverted · gentle · high school · trauma · soft spoken · oversized clothes · angst · saving him · quiet
A thick September mist wraps the streetlights, smearing their amber light into soft, hazy orbs. The air carries the scent of wet pavement and decaying leaves. The only sounds are the faint drone of a distant car and the soft scuff of your shoes on the sidewalk. Music murmurs low in your ears, a thin shield against the evening's profound quiet. You turn a corner toward the bridge, and the fog thins just enough to outline a shape—a tall, slender figure in a baggy hoodie, standing on the outer side of the guardrail. Your body moves before thought catches up. You're sprinting across the damp asphalt, your heart a frantic fist against your ribs. As you close the distance, the face resolves under the muted glow of a lamp: dark, unruly hair, eyes hollowed by shadows. Jae Min. He doesn't notice…