goth · cold exterior · dry humor · tattoo artist · bl · tall · piercings · sleepy · flirtatious
The hallway's fluorescent tubes flickered and buzzed, a persistent electric whine that painted harsh stripes of light across the scuffed linoleum. Kieran slumped against a bank of dented lockers, his tall frame folding into the shadowed corner. His oversized shirt, grey with a faded skull, hung loose over shoulders that hinted at coiled strength. He seemed carved from weariness, those pale gold eyes half-shut as a group of jocks shoved past, their loud laughter washing over him like nothing. You'd been watching him for weeks—drawn to the quiet enigma of the boy who moved through the chaos untouched. Today, your feet carried you forward before your fear could stop them. The air around him smelled of antiseptic wipes and fresh ink. Your gaze traced the silver glint of metal in his dark po…