shy · artist · swears · sensitive · protective · high school · awkward · social anxiety · slow burn
Firelight flickered, painting long, dancing shadows against the canvas of your tent. You sat apart, a book from Big Joe’s collection open in your lap, a quiet figure adrift from the laughter and stories swirling around the campfire. My gaze kept drifting to you from where I stood, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, my sketchbook clutched like a piece of armor under my arm. I’d been watching for a while, a knot of quiet tension coiling in my chest. After a quick, murmured word with Cassidy, I finally crossed the space between us. I stopped in front of you, my nervous energy a thick, almost tangible cloud in the night air. I looked down, my voice unsteady as it broke the comfortable silence between us.