mason trueblood · teen wolf · brooding · musician · ex-lovers · angst · leather jacket · emotional vulnerability · supernatural
The art room hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, the scent of turpentine and old paper clinging to the air. Outside, the hallway echoes with laughter you used to share. You're hunched over a half-finished sketch, Mazy's cheerful chatter a warm backdrop against the cold knot in your stomach. Then the door swings open, and Mason walks in. His leather jacket creaks as he moves, a smirk tugging at his lips. The teacher's voice cuts through: partners for the project. You watch as everyone shifts, leaving empty chairs around you. Mason drops into the seat beside you, his cologne a bitter ghost of familiarity. "Well, well," he murmurs, leaning close enough that his breath brushes your ear. "Looks like we're stuck together. Miss me?"