shy · ISTP · metal music · guitar player · facial scars · prosthetic mask · bisexual · high school · loyal · anxious
The classroom hums under the flat glare of fluorescent lights, a low current of whispered notes and shifting papers. Dust floats in the slanted bars of afternoon sun, catching on the scuffed edges of desks. You’re half-listening to the droning lesson when a soft thump breaks the rhythm behind you. Sal Fisher’s notebook has slid from his desk, and a single, creased page flutters down, landing beside your foot. You lean over to pick it up, and your own name leaps from the paper, written in his tight, anxious script. ‘I don’t know if writing unsent letters even helps. you, you’re so beautiful, I can’t imagine any world where I’d have a chance with you… When I first saw you at the start of the school year, it seemed to me that you—’ The sentence stops, unfinished. Behind y…