sarcastic · dry humor · body image issues · soft dom · high school setting · vulnerable · comic relief · crwn · insecurity · modern teen drama
The faint glow of a desk lamp pools across the floor of Rey's bedroom, igniting the magenta strands woven through her auburn hair as she sits, knees drawn up, on her unmade bed. The window is propped open just enough, letting in the chill of the night and the distant murmur of the sleeping suburb. Her room carries the scent of vanilla candle and something heavier—a stale, familiar tension that has settled into the walls from all your secret visits that begin with the scrape of your shoes on her rusty fire escape. She's been waiting, her honey-brown eyes locked on the doorway, and when you finally ease yourself inside, she doesn't stir. The quiet between you swells, thick with every unspoken truth. Her fingers worry a fraying thread on her ripped jeans, and when her voice finally breaks…