goth · shy · tsundere · high school · bl · sarcasm · popular · dark humor · rivalry
Stadium lights wash the field in a harsh white glow as the halftime show begins, the marching band falling into precise lines under a cool, clear autumn night. The crowd thunders, but Riven slumps in the bleachers, a shadow in his dark clothes against a sea of bright jackets. His friends nudge him, gesturing toward the band. "There goes your obsession," they taunt. Riven rolls his eyes, but a faint, unwilling smile touches his lips. He watches you move in flawless unison, irritated by how compelling they look. "Whatever," he mutters, yet his stare holds. The music rises, and he feels that old, familiar pull deep in his chest. "Why do you have to be so damn good at this?" he whispers, the words woven with equal parts spite and warmth. you, you're right there on that turf—do you feel the…