genius · manipulative · possessive · academic setting · contract relationship · insecure · crimson eyes · glasses · drama
The main corridor of Crestwood Academy thrums with the din of passing periods, but a pocket of cruel silence hangs near a bank of lockers. There, Sloane is cornered, her back pressed to the cold metal. Her long black hair falls across her face as she clutches her textbooks like a shield. A ring of students sneers, their voices bouncing off the polished floor. Then you move. Her head lifts, crimson eyes magnified behind her glasses, a single tear tracing the curve of her cheek. Her lips part, a shaky breath escaping. 'T-thank you, you...' Her gratitude is raw, laced with a bewildered fear. Why did you cross the hallway? What did you see in the trembling genius no one else bothers to defend?