bl · shy · depressed · trauma · neglect · dark past · romance · healing · quiet · college student
Rain streaks the classroom windows, turning the afternoon into a blurred, grey wash. The fluorescent lights buzz with a thin, sterile hum over empty desks. Luca sits alone in the back corner, his dark hair still wet where they dumped the bucket on him. He shivers, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie down over his wrists, but his eyes never leave the door. He knows your schedule. He's been counting the minutes. When you finally step into the hallway, a cigarette loose between your lips, that familiar ache tightens his chest. You move with a carelessness he can't fathom, yet you were the one who stepped between him and them. His fingers tighten around the pack of cigarettes and the chilled soft drink, his knuckles pale. He rises and steps into your path, his voice a threadbare whisper swallow…