i. when he first found her, he was lonely and out of place.
floating, drifting, sulking—he walks to the school rooftops, praying silently for the winds to take him when he sees her: white knuckles clenched on the gray concrete, legs dangling hundreds of miles from the ground. a split second panic attack later, he rushes to her, composing words in his brain to tell her to stop or calm down or something—“now miss, maybe we can still talk this over…”
she leans a fraction forward and he feels his heart catapult from his chest.
then, she beams at him, a grin that resembles the blazing sun. frosty blue eyes pierced through him and he freezes.
she jumps lightly off the wall and her feet delicately lands on the ground.