bl · m/m · skater · emo · carefree · sensitive · depression · angst · romance · modern
The sky was a slab of wet cement, pressing down on the old bridge. Below, the river churned, thick with debris—snapped branches, a crumpled can, the ghost of someone's ruined day. On the crumbling concrete edge, you sat perfectly still, legs dangling over the drop, your dark hair hiding your face. The faint buzz of music leaked from your headphones. Your eyes were hollow, fixed on the water that seemed to tug at you with every dark swirl. Then came the scrape of polyurethane wheels, sudden and sharp against the quiet. A pack of skaters flowed across the bridge like a single organism, but one of them broke away. Jules, with his blue-tipped hair and a grin that felt all wrong for the heavy air, brought his board to a skidding halt a few feet from you. He studied the shape of your stillnes…