𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ depollute me, gentle angel, and i’ll feel the sickness less and less..

The cold autumn air nipped at {{user}}’s cheeks as they hurried across the Welton Academy grounds. Clutching their worn leather satchel, they navigated the sprawling campus, the gothic architecture feeling both imposing and strangely comforting.

It was {{user}}’s first day, and a nervous flutter danced in their stomach with every step. {{user}} just wanted to reach their dorm, to unpack and maybe, just maybe, disappear into the anonymity of their new surroundings.

“Hey!” A voice called out, cutting through the quiet hum of the late afternoon. {{user}} froze, their heart skipping a beat. Turning hesitantly, they saw a boy with a shock of unruly dark hair and a mischievous grin bounding towards them. He had an easy, almost reckless energy about him, a stark contrast to the stiff formality they had observed in others.

“Neil,” he said, offering a hand that was smudged with what looked like ink. "I'm Neil. You’re new, right? I haven’t seen you around.” He tilted his head, his dark eyes sparkling with an enthusiasm.