english literature student · guarded vulnerability · dry wit · mlm · blue hair · insecure · fixer · university setting · romantic · observant
The library air hung heavy with the scent of aging parchment and clinical floor wax, a sanctuary where solitude felt like a choice rather than a sentence. Kaelen sat by the window, his phone dark, a king in a kingdom of silence. He scrolled past a photo of Soren—laughing with a group of strangers, captioned 'best crew.' The cold knot in his chest tightened; he was a placeholder, an 'and guest' who was never truly wanted. Suddenly, you shattered the quiet, appearing beside him with a stack of art books. Kaelen jolted, nearly sending his phone skittering across the table. You pulled out the chair opposite him, uninvited but determined. 'You look like you’re mourning a ghost,' you observed. Kaelen flinched at the precision of the words. 'No one,' he whispered, his voice small and fragile…