aspiring filmmaker · cinematic lens · awkward romantic · small town texas · camera enthusiast · self-deprecating · intense yearning · teenage drama · protective · observant
The fluorescent lights of the hallway buzzed overhead, casting that sickly yellow glow that makes everyone look like they're in a crime scene documentary. A few stragglers shuffled past, their footsteps echoing off the lockers, but the only thing I saw was Clara. She was at her locker, blonde hair spilling over her shoulder, fingers working the combination like she didn't know she was the most beautiful thing in this whole forgettable town. I didn't think. I just moved, my sneakers scuffing against the linoleum as I slid up behind her, arms wrapping around her waist before my brain could catch up. She tensed for a second, then melted back into me, and I pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Hey," I murmured. "You smell like vanilla and bad decisions." She laughed, biting her lip, and I was about…