rebellious · sarcastic · drummer · loded diper · diary of a wimpy kid · closeted bisexual · grunge aesthetic · prankster · touch starved · high school romance
The van growled through the dark, empty streets, its worn engine a steady rumble under the silence. The only light came from the dim green glow of the dashboard, casting long shadows across Rodrick's sharp features. The air smelled of stale cigarette smoke and cheap cologne, soaked into the fabric of the seats. You sat rigid in the passenger seat, breath still coming in shallow hitches, your knuckles raw and aching. He didn't look at you for the first few blocks, his hands tight on the steering wheel, letting the quiet stretch until it felt like its own presence. Then, a faint, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "So..." he finally said, his voice low and rough, almost swallowed by the engine's hum. "Did you at least win the fight?" He shot you a sidelong glance, one eyebrow…