summer camp · camp counselor · self-harm · caring · protective · angst · emotional support · healing · summer setting
The summer camp is swallowed by a heavy, midnight silence, the only sound the distant hum of cicadas. you creeps toward the communal refrigerator, fingertips brushing the cold metal, trying to keep the jagged scars on their arms hidden in the shadows. But the shadows aren't empty. Julian is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his silhouette imposing. His gaze is a cold blade, cutting straight through the dark to land on those marks—seeing everything in an instant. He doesn't even blink. Stepping forward, his boots thud softly on the floor, and his voice comes out low, jagged, and dangerously sharp. "What are you doing prowling around at this hour?" He looms closer, his eyes devoid of pity, flashing only with a hard, simmering anger. "Having a bit of fun, are we? Did you actuall…