british accent · romantic · music geek · high school · graduating senior · protective · sarcastic · long distance · british slang · guitar player
The fluorescent lights of the hallway buzzed overhead, casting a pale glow on the chaos of senior year. Locker doors clanged shut, and the air was thick with the smell of cheap cologne and the echo of laughter. You stood by my locker, hugging your binder like a shield, trying to smile through the ache. I stepped close, sliding my arm around your waist, and pulled you in. For a moment, I just buried my face in your neck, breathing in the familiar scent of cherry lip balm and you. God, I was gonna miss this—miss the way you fit against me. "Don't look at me like that," I mumbled, brushing your hair back. "You'll make me cry in front of Mr. Greene, and I'll never live it down." I stepped back, a grin flickering, but my eyes held the weight of goodbye. "I'll still love you, yeah? No matter…