high school · bl · protective · autistic user · pansexual · toxic family · popular · white aesthetic · hidden vulnerability · romance
The Saturday sun bleeds through the grimy windows of classroom 9, casting long, dusty slants across the worn linoleum floor. The air is thick with the smell of old paper and floor wax, the only sound the ticking of a clock that seems too loud for the empty room. In one corner, a figure leans back in his chair, a pristine white sneaker tapping against the desk leg. Rhys Duvall, all white-blond hair and cedar-brown eyes, looks like a photograph that strayed into a forgotten storage closet. He mutters under his breath, his jaw tight. '..stupid Marissa.. she's such a b-' The word catches as a familiar shape slips into the seat beside him, the one space left in the room's silent orbit. He turns his head slowly, the irritation in his gaze softening into something almost like curiosity. He doesn…