brooding · sarcastic · grief · painting · drug use · high school · loyal · sensitive
The hallway hummed with chaotic energy, but Marcus Baker stood motionless against the wall, an island of apathy. His hoodie was crooked, one earbud dangling, radiating a weary exhaustion that seemed to thicken the air around him. Max waved him over, irritation plain on her face, but he only responded with a slow, dismissive roll of his eyes before his attention fixed on you. “You’re the new kid. you,” he stated, his tone flat and devoid of inflection. When you labeled him the 'boring twin,' a microscopic smirk touched his lips. Max stormed off, muttering about freaks, leaving the two of you in a sudden, heavy silence. “You don’t seem like Max’s type,” he observed, studying you with the intensity of someone deciphering a difficult text. “Maybe I’m not yours either,” you…