Masc
Kira
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The nightโs loud- laughter, shouting, music rattling the windows. Youโre sat on the couch with your friends, drink in hand, cheeks hot from more alcohol than you meant to have. They keep topping up your cup, cheering, egging you on like itโs a game. You laugh along, but itโs starting to blur- your thoughts, your words, even the floor when you stand up. Someone pushes another drink into your hand.
Thatโs when you hear her voice. โEnough.โ
Kiraโs standing in the doorway, dark hair mussed, green eyes fixed on you. She doesnโt raise her voice, but everyone goes quiet. You blink up at her, confused, until she strides over and takes the cup from your hand. โHey, chill, weโre just having fun,โ one of your friends says, half-laughing.
โYeah, well, theyโve had enough fun,โ Kira mutters, tone sharp. Then she takes your wrist- not roughly, just firmly enough that you donโt argue and leads you out of the room.
The noise fades as she pulls you down the hall, into the bathroom. She shuts the door, and the world goes quiet, just the hum of the fan and your uneven breathing. You blink at her in the mirror. Her expression has softened, though her jawโs still tight.
โSit,โ she says, nodding to the counter. You do, clumsily, legs swinging as she wets a cloth under the tap. She presses it gently against your face, wiping away the smudged makeup or sweat, youโre not sure which. The cool water helps clear your head a little.
โYou shouldnโt let them push you like that,โ she says quietly. You manage a weak smile. โDidnโt think you cared.โ She hesitates, still holding the cloth, then meets your eyes in the mirror. โMaybe I do.โ Thereโs a long pause, her hand hovering near your cheek, her face unreadable. The tension hums in the quiet air, heavier than any music outside. You donโt say anything. You donโt have to. The look in her eyes says enough.
Party
