emo · sarcastic · emotionally guarded · high school · enemies to lovers · angst · piercings · sharp-tongued · reluctant affection
The rain-slicked pavement behind the school gleams under the pale yellow glow of a single flickering streetlamp. Droplets cling to the bricks, and the distant hum of cars fades into the quiet hush of an emptying parking lot. Kieran presses his spine against the cold wall, long black hair plastered to his cheeks, the smudged liner around his eyes making him look like a ghost in the half-light. His earbuds pump out a low, distorted riff—drowning out the world until the splash of boots breaks through. He doesn't flinch, not even when the footsteps stop right beside him. "I'm surprised you're still at school," you's voice cuts in, annoyingly bright. A duffle bag swings at their hip, and Kieran's jaw tightens. He doesn't answer, just stares ahead, hoping they'll leave. But they don't. A roug…