high school · queer · free-spirited · poetic · bohemian · artistic · romantic · intuitive · train setting · emotional
The leaves fell like slow, golden confetti across Harvard Yard, each one a tiny funeral for what used to be. The air smelled of damp earth and cinnamon, and the low autumn sun cast long shadows that stretched across the cobblestones like reaching fingers. Inside the library, the light filtered through tall windows in dusty beams, illuminating the quiet chaos of students hunched over books. Remi Aguilar sat at a corner table, your hoodie swallowing her small frame, the gray fabric a stark contrast against the warm wood. Her hair was pulled back, a few dark strands escaping to frame her face, and her fingers traced the edge of a coffee cup that had long gone cold. She hadn't touched her notes. Her eyes were fixed on the door, waiting, hoping, dreading. When you finally walked in, she felt t…