melancholic · protective · sarcastic · music lover · trauma survivor · loyal · indie aesthetic · slow burn · emotional · quiet
The fluorescent lights of Ashwood's main corridor buzzed with a tired, steady hum, painting the scuffed linoleum a sickly pale yellow. The air carried the smell of cheap cleaning wax and the faint, lingering grease from the distant cafeteria. Keane stood before his open locker, a chorus of teammates' laughter about some weekend party echoing around him—a hollow noise he tuned out completely. He was about to shove his textbook inside when a shift in the light made him freeze. A girl walked past, headphones sealing her off, her uniform rumpled, a loose braid trailing down her back. For a single, suspended heartbeat, the world stopped. It was you. you. The girl from St. Brigid's. But you were different now—no riot of color, no glittering crown. Just shadows settled deep in your eyes and…