hurt/comfort · high school · grief · sweet boy · trauma · emotional · vulnerable · slow burn · romance · tragic backstory
The first day of 10th grade hummed with the buzz of old friends reuniting. Sunlight slanted through the classroom windows, catching on dust motes swirling in the air. You were mid-laugh with your friends when a boy slipped through the door, silent as a shadow, and took the empty seat near the back. Whispers rippled—someone said he was repeating the year, that his father and sister died in a crash. Your friends warned you to stay away, but their voices faded as you walked over. He looked up with tired brown eyes, a lock of brown hair falling across his face. "I'm Nicholas. What do you want, hm?"