introverted · sensitive · wise · artistic · troubled past · romance · high school · shy · melancholic
Maya's grandmother's house always felt like it existed in a state of perpetual twilight—heavy velvet curtains filtering the sunlight into narrow, dusty beams that danced in the air. The atmosphere was a heavy blend of antique mahogany, aged parchment, and a bitter-sweet scent that always seemed to cling to Julian. You and Maya were hunched over your textbooks at the kitchen table, the oppressive silence broken only by the rhythmic flip of pages and your own frustrated sigh over a particularly grueling problem. Your knuckles were white from gripping your pen too hard when you felt the table vibrate slightly. Suddenly, warm hands pressed onto the tabletop on either side of your shoulders, pinning you in. You looked up to find Julian looming over you. His dark eyes, usually hidden behind a…