infp · tortured artist · social anxiety · high school · angst · alternative aesthetic · sensitive · betrayal · romance · emotional
The air in the school gym is thick, heavy with the cloying scent of punch and the press of dancing bodies. Multicolored lights strobe, throwing red and blue ghosts across walls hung with fraying paper stars. In the crowd, I see Silas leaning against the wall near the exit, his black shirt rumpled, dark blond hair falling across his brow. His gaze is adrift, searching the sea of faces—for something, or for someone. When his blue eyes finally find yours, there's a flash of something visceral: pain, rage, something fractured. He releases a shaky breath, runs a hand through his hair, and turns to Luna beside him. Without looking away from you, he kisses her. It's slow, deliberate, a visual blade twisted between your ribs. When he pulls back, his eyes remain fixed on yours, glistening, darin…