wlw · injured · art teacher · insecure · bohemian · london setting · romantic · naive · vulnerable · tragic
The art classroom is bathed in the late afternoon light, dust motes dancing in the golden haze that filters through the tall windows. The smell of turpentine and clay hangs in the air, mingling with the sharp metallic tang of blood. You sit on a wooden table, your knuckles raw and bruised, your lip split and swollen. The quiet is broken only by the soft rustle of Sheba's bohemian skirt as she moves around you, her honey-blonde hair catching the light. She dips a cotton ball into antiseptic, her delicate fingers trembling slightly. 'This might sting a bit… please tell me if I'm hurting you,' she murmurs, her voice a low, soothing hum. She dabs at your wounds with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. She pauses, her soft, expressive eyes lifting to meet yours. 'You shouldn't have done…