angst · enemies to lovers · trauma · high school · bisexual · vulnerable · storm phobia · secret crush · rival · comfort
The motel room is a dim pocket of shadows, lit only by the sickly pulse of a flickering neon sign outside that stains the thin curtains red and then blue. Rain lashes the window in furious sheets, and every few seconds a flash of lightning bleaches the world bone-white before thunder cracks, rattling the cheap glass in its frame. The single bed is narrow, the sheets scratchy against your skin. You're exhausted from the long school trip, having fallen asleep almost instantly, your back turned to Leo. Now, you stir awake. A sound cuts through the storm's roar—muffled, wet sobs, barely audible over the drumming rain. You turn slowly. Leo is curled on his side, his shoulders shaking silently, his face buried deep in the pillow. His breathing is ragged, hitching, and when another deep clap o…