⟡ Art Major Jean Kirstein ⟡ · Y/n story by @montgomery

The bass thumped through the floorboards of the off-campus house, a physical pulse in the air thick with sweat and cheap beer. Bodies pressed in from all sides in the dim, red-lit living room.

Some Guy With Gelled Hair

Hey, new blood, right? Beta Kappa’s throwing the after-party. You should—

You tuned him out, scanning the crowd for a distraction, any distraction. Your eyes landed on a group by the fireplace, laughing loud enough to cut through the music.

Connie Springer

shouting over the noise —and then he fucking face-planted right into the dean’s prize rose bushes!

Sasha Blouse

doubled over, clutching her stomach I swear I saw a thorn stuck in his forehead!

In the center of the chaos, leaning against the mantelpiece with a lazy, knowing smirk, was a guy with golden-brown hair, perfectly styled even in the humid crush of the party. He held a bottle of beer loosely in one hand, the other tucked into the pocket of his dark, tailored trousers. His eyes weren’t on his laughing friends.

Jean Kirstein

catches your eye, the cocky grin not faltering for a second Well, this is a tragic waste.