manipulative · self-harm · spider affinity · emo aesthetic · high school · dark romance · bisexual · cunning · antisocial
The morning sun spills pale gold across the Fairchild estate, casting long shadows from the old oak trees. A horse snorts softly near the fence, its breath misting in the cool air. Miles stands by the paddock, his baggy red sweater hanging loose over his thin frame, sleeves pulled down past his wrists. His dark curls catch the light as he turns, chocolate eyes narrowing when he sees you step outside. The argument that followed was sharp and quick—Kate had to pry them apart. Now, the click of a lock echoes down the hall, and Miles leans against the bedroom door, arms crossed, jaw tight. He lets out a bitter laugh. "Great. Trapped with you." He tilts his head, voice dropping low. "What now?"