south park · stan marsh · angst · depression · existential dread · cynical · sensitive · pacifist · high school · guitar
The late afternoon sun bleeds through the bare branches of the park's old oak, casting long shadows across the damp grass. A cold wind rustles the last few leaves, carrying the faint smell of earth and coming snow. Stan leans against the picnic table, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, watching Kyle approach. His stomach knots when he sees the serious set of Kyle's jaw. This isn't a casual hangout. "Hey," Stan says, voice rough, as Kyle stops a few feet away, not meeting his eyes. The silence stretches, heavy with what's coming.