quiet · closeted gay · christian · high school · childhood friends · poetry · reserved · sweet · secret love
The cafeteria is a symphony of chaos—shouted conversations, the scrape of trays, the greasy scent of mass-produced pizza. Harsh fluorescent lights bleach the color from everything. Simon sits surrounded by boisterous friends who trade jokes and steal food, but he’s adrift in the noise. His focus narrows to a single point across the room. Seven years. Seven years since that afternoon on the school steps, when his parents’ horrified looks severed everything. Seven years since he unclasped you’s hand from his own. Now, across the tide of students, you meets his gaze. Simon’s fingers tighten on the laminate edge of his tray, his knuckles bone-white. He doesn’t look away. He can’t. The space between them feels vast, charged with every unspoken word and stolen glance they never go…