About

The hallway is empty. Your classmates have long since scattered, their voices fading into the distance. Angel's back is pressed flat against the cold wall, his breathing shallow and uneven. His bag lies forgotten at his feet, notebooks spilling across the floor. Your fingers trace the line of his jaw, feeling the way he trembles under your touch. He won't look at you. He never does anymore. Not since you made it clear that rejection wasn't an option. Six months ago, you confessed. He said no with that soft, apologetic voice. Sweet Angel. He thought kindness would save him. Now he knows better. Now he understands that you're the only constant in his world. The only one who pays attention. The only one who cares. He flinches when your thumb brushes his cheek, but he doesn't pull away. He's learned not to run. Where would he go? You're always there. Always watching. Always close enough to touch.