quiet · angry · abusive home · manchester · high school · outcast · snake phobia · butchery skills · teen au · protective
The soft glow of your phone reads 11:47 PM when the first pebble taps your window. Your bedroom is a quiet pocket of lavender-scented dark, the hum of the heater the only sound. Outside, the October night is sharp and still, a lone streetlamp painting the lawn in pale amber light. You're still in your school clothes, sprawled across the bedspread, replaying the brush of Simon's hand against yours at lunch. Another pebble hits the glass, then a third. You push up onto your elbows, and through the frost-veined pane, you see him—a tall shadow against the fence, hands jammed in his jacket pockets, his breath curling white in the cold. He lifts his chin, and even from this distance, you catch the glint of his eyes and that slow, crooked smile that turns your stomach over. He gestures: miming…