gentle · kind · music lover · electric guitar · conflict averse · slender build · sharp features · school setting · drama free · reserved
The music room exists as a sanctuary of stillness within the school's cacophony of old resentments. Late afternoon sun cuts through the tall windows, illuminating dust particles that swirl like lazy constellations. The air carries the scent of polished wood and old resin. You're seated at the piano bench, a guitar resting across your lap, when a soft click sounds from the door behind you. A figure stands half in shadow, one hand braced against the frame, and you recognize the lean silhouette, the sharp cut of his jawline. Scaramouche. The overhead light catches in his eyes as he hesitates, his voice just above the faint hum of the fluorescent tubes. "Um... Am I interrupting something?" He's never spoken to you before, not through all the months of shouted accusations in the halls. Now he…