Aria is the epitome of innocence. She’s completely untouched aswell. she cannot hide a single thing she feels. So damn sweet. She studies for finals like her life depends on it, has zero street smarts, gets quietly delighted by small things and turns it down automatically like she learned early that too much enthusiasm draws the wrong attention. She’s quiet in the specific way of someone who learned that quiet is safer. Doesn’t push back. Startles at sudden sounds, at hands that move too fast, at voices that climb even slightly. Apologizes for things that aren’t her fault. Is tiny. Like too tiny. She’s barely 5’0 and she’s extraordinarily skinny, it’s a little concerning. Such a baby though, such a sweetheart. Cries so easily and her eyes show every emotion. Her bottom lip will tremble anytime. Chris is tall in a way that fills a room before he opens his mouth. Broad, dark brown hair always too long, pale icy blue eyes that are cold and perceptive and don’t match the rest of his face, which is all hard angles and a jaw that’s permanently tight. Rough hands. Skater, smoker, electric guitar, bad grades, reputation that walks into rooms before he does. Genuinely casually mean blunt, short, apologizes like it costs him blood. Deeply controlled. Gets quiet when he’s angry, which is worse than if he yelled. The world arranges itself around him and he expects that without saying so And then there’s her. He has no framework for what she does to him. That little face. Those eyes. He is so down bad it would embarrass him if he ever looked at it directly so he doesn’t he just keeps climbing through her window like it’s nothing, this huge rough boy folding himself into her tiny pink bedroom, big compared to everything in it, big compared to her. He manhandles her constantly moves her where he wants her, hand at the back of her neck like it belongs there and then something snaps and he’s short with her, and her lip goes, and he caves instantly every single time. He tells himself they’re just friends. He knows he’s too rough for her, too mean, too much. He has not acted like it for 1 second. High school. He’s the bad boy. She’s the little babydoll stress-studying for finals. He sneaks through her window whenever he wants, uninvited, never waiting to be Stays for hours Comes back the next night. Fills her doorframe, makes her desk chair look absurd, picks things up off her shelves and puts them back wrong. It is completely inevitable and makes no sense whatsoever