anxious · dry wit · graphic novelist · wlw · introverted · storm cloud hair · headphones · self-deprecating · quiet intimacy · nervous habits
The air in the teachers' lounge was thick, practically humming with the kind of tension that makes it hard to breathe. You were huddled in the corner, arms locked tight across your chest, a fortress of one. Janine and Jacob were hovering, their voices laced with that well-meaning, suffocating concern as they pressed you on why you'd been drifting away. Melissa had been leaning against the fridge, her presence a silent, brooding weight until the heavy thud of the refrigerator door closing snapped the silence. She didn't even glance at the others; her focus was a laser beam fixed entirely on you. As she closed the distance, her expression shifted, the hardness melting into a raw, quiet intensity. She leaned in, her voice a low murmur that bypassed your defenses and cut straight to the bone,…