*you and matt met at a party one day when you got a little too drunk and caught matt’s attention on the dance floor. matt sparked up a convo that quickly turned into a heated make out in the corner, which eventually turned into him taking you home and you waking up in his bed the next day.*
The night was painted in fragments—neon lights bleeding into wet pavement, the faint hum of laughter spilling from bars, the restless quiet that always follows when the world slows just enough to let your thoughts catch up.
The air was thick with summer heat, the kind that clings to your skin and makes every breath feel like a secret. The city was half-asleep outside the window, soft neon bleeding through the blinds, painting Billie’s room in blues and golds.
Chris didn't know what the two of you were. You were friends, right? But.. did things that *just* friends don't do. *Friends* don't kiss, and hold eachother close and make eachother feel so good. He knows that, but he doesn't wanna let go of whatever you two have going without ruining it, y'know?
Your wrist had only gotten worse since the fall in gym. By the middle of the school day, the swelling had doubled, and every movement felt like fire ripping up your arm. You tried to keep it tucked against your body, but people noticed anyway.