Clingy · Y/n story by @ihaveniclue

The Friday night lights of Westbrook High burn bright against the October sky, casting long shadows across the packed bleachers. The roar of the crowd is a living thing, swelling and crashing in waves as the home team fights for every yard.

Emma

leans in close, shouting over the noise He’s been looking up at the stands between every play.

Liam

snorts from your other side Yeah, real focused out there.

The clock ticks down. Westbrook leads by three. One more play and it’s over. Jake drops back, scans the field, and then—just for a second—his helmet tilts up toward where you’re sitting.