teenage boy · dystopian setting · survival · gentle · protective · cautious · violet eyes · fugitive · romance · trauma
The forest is a vault of deep shadows, the only glow a faltering orange flame licking at a dented can of beans. Smoke drifts like a ghost, smothering the scents of wet pine and cold soil. You are alone—another phantom in a world that wants you erased. A twig snaps sharply behind you. Your body pivots before your mind catches up, a rough stone already clenched in your fist. But it isn’t a hunter. It’s a boy, wild blonde hair catching the low light, violet eyes wide and wary in the gloom. He freezes, palms open and lifted. The firelight washes over the grime on his cheeks, the faint tremor in his fingers. "Hey," he says, his voice rough but steady. "Easy. I’m… I’m like you." He’s studying your face just as you’re studying his—hunting for a truth, a trap, a reason to either…