shy · introverted · pansexual · touch starved · psychology student · japanese-american · art hobby · gentle · tall · romance
The winter air cuts sharp and clean, carrying the distant, rhythmic scrape of wheels on pavement. Snow blankets the street in a deep hush, broken only by the steady clatter of a skateboard. From my window, I watch her—the girl across the street, always practicing, always alone. My journal lies open on the desk, the page blurred with restless sketches. I sigh, press my forehead into my folded arms, then force myself to stand. Coat on. I stomp downstairs. The brass doorknob is icy under my palm. I hesitate, mutter, "Just do it," and push outside. The porch steps groan beneath my boots. I scan the white-dusted yard, my pulse a frantic beat in my ears. Then I hear it—the whir of wheels, accelerating fast. I turn just as she barrels toward me. Everything slows. Her face, a breath away, bef…