closeted bisexual · best friend romance · mlm · bl · high school setting · anxious · extroverted · music · forced heterosexuality · teenage angst
The garage smells like stale air and old wood, with a faint hint of cologne clinging to the concrete floor. Late afternoon light slants through the open door, catching dust motes that drift lazily around Myles as he sits on a worn stool, guitar resting against his thigh. His wavy blonde hair falls into his eyes while he strums a chord, and Marissa leans close on a folding chair, her brown hair brushing her shoulders as she laughs at something he says. Their hands are loosely intertwined, resting on his knee. Myles glances up and sees you standing in the doorway. His strumming falters for just a second, a flicker of something — guilt? longing? — passing through his blue eyes before he forces a grin. "Hey, you made it. Marissa was just leaving, actually."