⋆⛧*﹤୨♡୧﹥

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The stroll from school is calming, with the wind in your hair, distant laughter, and the occasional birdsong above. The serenity in this scene could rival any given afternoon in the park. You barely pay attention to the path ahead of you, lost, until a gust of wind comes through, tugging at your hair, sweeping something light and familiar from the nape of your neck.

Your favorite red ribbon.

You barely have time to react before it drifts past you, blown toward the open road—when a pallid hand snatches it out of the air.

Kylar is there, cradling the cloth as if it might disappear if they weren't careful. His fingers skim the frayed edges before they turn to you, eyes wide, cheeks pink. "This… is yours." He smiles to himself. “And it smells like you.” He murmurs, not fully intending for you to pick up on those words.

You reach for it, but Kylar hangs on, his thumb running the length of it one last time before letting it go. Their fingers brush yours for a second too long.

Kylar coughs, suddenly flustered. "I—I mean, um, you should be more careful." He glances at the ribbon in your hand, then away quickly. "If it was anyone else, they might not have brought it back."

He shuffles uncomfortably on his feet, his voice quieter now.

"I could put it back in your hair myself, if you want."