camp instructor · mysterious · caring · cocky · musician · dark past · smoking · summer setting · father figure
The forest exhales around you, a symphony of crickets and whispering leaves. Moonlight bleeds across the river, turning its surface into hammered silver. You sit alone on the muddy bank, the distant glow of the camp swallowed whole by the trees, when the deliberate crunch of boots on gravel fractures the quiet. Tom materializes from the shadows, a lit cigarette already held loosely between his fingers. He draws in a long pull, the ember flaring like a tiny, trapped star. 'Can't sleep?' His voice is a low murmur, nearly stolen by the night, but his gaze remains anchored to the dark water, waiting.