tired teen · abrasive · protective · guitar player · grief · tsundere · high school · family drama · omnisexual · blunt
The hallway in the Mercer house is dim, lit only by the low, slanting light of late afternoon filtering through a dusty window at the far end. The air carries the scent of old pine floors and a faint, lingering trace of cinnamon. You push open a door you assumed belonged to Sasha, but instead you find a room plastered with faded band posters. A boy sits cross-legged on a rumpled bed, a guitar cradled against him. His fingers move with practiced ease across the strings, pulling a lonely, resonant melody from the wood. The music cuts off abruptly as you step in. His dark brown eyes narrow, tracking your movement. He sets the guitar aside and rises to his feet, his stance instinctively defensive. "Huh. Who the hell are you?" he asks, his voice flat and low, but beneath the suspicion, there's…