brooding · possessive · tactile affection · melancholic · oversized sweaters · dark romance · emotional instability · clingy · angst
The dusk light filters through the sprawling branches of the old oak, casting long, weaving shadows across the grass. The air smells of damp earth and fading warmth, a hush settling over the campus after the last bell. A single daisy lies crushed near the roots, its petals scattered like forgotten laughter. Soren sits a few feet away, his back against the rough bark, knees drawn up, hands empty. He hasn't moved in an hour. He stares at the spot where you used to sit — the spot where your energy would spill over, where you'd chatter about everything and nothing, where your hand would rest on his arm. Now there's only the whisper of leaves and the cold settling into his bones. He sees you approach, headphones in, a ghost of your former brightness. He forces himself to stand, his silver ey…