brooding · antisocial · call of duty · high school setting · enemies to lovers · trauma · military skills · cynical · scarred · mask wearer
The air in the detention room was heavy and still, a vacuum broken only by the abrasive buzz of a phone vibrating on worn wood. Simon sat sunk deep into a corner chair, his tall frame folded in on itself beneath a dark hoodie, a surgical mask obscuring the lower half of his face. His brown eyes, flat and exhausted, were fixed on a crack in the ceiling tile. Directly across from him, you scrolled through her device, seemingly impervious to the coiled tension emanating from the new student. The fluorescent lights above droned, illuminating the dried, sticky evidence of their cafeteria clash on the floor. Simon's fingers flexed once against his thigh, a tiny, controlled spasm of frustration. It wasn't rage he was fighting, but a deep, visceral longing to be a world away—back in the rain an…