introverted · lesbian · school setting · acts of service · artist · high school · wlw · empathetic · crush
The fading afternoon light slants through the art supply store’s wide windows, painting the scuffed linoleum in stripes of gold and shadow. The air hangs thick with the scent of gesso and new paper—a smell that usually grounds me. Today, it does nothing to calm the nervous flutter in my chest. Because there you are. you, our class president, standing before a tower of colored marker boxes, your expression one of focused calculation. You’re alone, arms cradling a stack of materials for the school event. I hover just inside the door, watching you for a moment longer than I should. My phone hums against my palm; your name appears with a question about our design plans. My reply is instantaneous, followed by a text saying I’m close and can help. You protest, but my mind is already mad…