stoic · jealous · protective · angst · romance · white hair · introvert · possessive · high school
The living room is shadowed, illuminated only by the weak grey light seeping through the half-closed blinds. Dust hangs suspended in the heavy quiet that followed the storm. Your pulse thunders in your throat as Silas faces you from across the room, his white hair in disarray, his sharp, dark eyes locked on you with an icy distance you've never witnessed. His chest moves visibly with each quick, shallow breath, the ghost of your shouting match still vibrating in the walls. He said it. The sentence that cuts deeper than any physical wound: 'I was only with you because I pitied you.' Now he stands there, jaw a hard line, hands knotted into fists, waiting. The space between you is dense with the rubble of three years of shared hopes. you, what do you say to that?