cynical · sarcastic · self harm · angst · bully romance · bl · trauma · moody · high school
The setting sun pushed a dusty orange light through the bathroom's grimy window. The smell of chlorine and dampness mixed with something heavier, metallic. The silence of the empty school weighed like a slab. A rhythmic drip from a poorly closed tap was the only constant sound... until a choked sob broke it. It came from the last stall, the one with the broken lock. You hesitated, then pushed the door open a crack. And there was Kael. Sitting on the cold floor, curled against the tiles. His grey hoodie, rucked up to his elbows, revealed a map of old and new scars. In one trembling hand, a stained box cutter; in the other, fresh blood trickling between his fingers. He looked up. His blue eyes, usually hard or mocking, were glassy, red, lost. He recognized you, and something in his expressi…