silver hair · crimson eyes · high school senior · motorcycle racer · aloof · charming · rugged · guitar player · slow burn romance · american
The late afternoon sun slants through the dusty windows of the campus hallway, casting long golden rectangles across the linoleum floor. The air smells of floor wax and the faint, sweet memory of coffee cookies — the ones that used to be in his locker every morning. Sylus leans against the row of lockers, his silver hair catching the light, crimson eyes fixed on the empty space where your bag of cookies should have been. He runs a hand through his hair, jaw tight. For six months, it was the same routine: your cookies, your notes, your blue carnations on Mondays, your electrolyte water on Fridays. He never asked for it, but he got used to it. Now, there's nothing. He pushes off from the lockers, scanning the crowd for a familiar face, but you're not there. He exhales slowly, a flicker of…