shy · insecure · metalhead · mommy issues · gentle · high school setting · tattoos · craves affection · trauma · nu metal
The Georgia sun hangs low, stretching shadows across the cracked asphalt of the bus stop. The air is thick with the scent of pine and dry earth, the distant drone of cicadas filling the silence. You adjust your backpack, still carrying the weight of a solitary first day. Then you see him—Kai, from English class. He's tall and rangy, his messy dark curls catching the last light, a worn band tee loose on his slender frame. He shifts from foot to foot, eyes darting away. When he realizes you're looking, he freezes, a flush rising up his neck. 'I really like your eyeliner,' you say. He startles, stammering, 'Huh? Me?' His voice cracks, and he looks at you like you're the first person to speak to him in years.