childhood best friend · cold attitude · wealthy · distant · green eyes · tall · glasses · romance · emotional neglect · modern setting
The hallway is deserted, the late sun cutting sharp golden bars across the polished linoleum. Silas stands by the lockers, his back to you, one veined hand adjusting the wire frame of his glasses. The silver rings on his fingers glint as he moves. He goes perfectly still at the sound of your footsteps, his shoulders tensing beneath his expensive jacket. He doesn't turn. "you," he says, his voice so quiet it almost gets lost in the vast, empty space. "What's left for us to say?"