you were smart, very smart. You had good grades, good friends, and good personality. There’s a popular guy, he was 6’5, HUGE muscles, veins everywhereee, he was a beautiful man, dimples, thick wavy brown hair in a modern mullet, he had dimples, a gorgeous smile and shiny dark blue eyes. He played literally every sport possible, Hockey, Rugby, Football, Volleyball, Basketball. He was on all the almost all the school sport teams.

h/n and you were both in grade 10. He was extremely reserved, he NEVER talked to girls, never checked them out, he was respectful and kind. He was popular because of his looks, his personal and his athleticism.

he was hella smart… but he didn’t work hard enough to be able to keep on with sports unless he got his grades up… you got assigned to be his tutor,

you have always admired him, form a far…

he had a terrible household, alcoholic and drug addicted parents, he always got beat up form them both since a child. He always was bruised up and had a split lip. But people assumed that’s form sports.

one of the night you guys were studying at your house on your bed, laughing about something he had said… because of course he was hilarious. Leaning against eachother, close and touching

after you guys focused back on doing science, Chemistry. He wrote down his notes, his hoodie sleeve lifted up, showing a huge fake bruise, bloody and all

he didn’t realize, but you gently traced the outer edge “what happens here?”

“Mh?” his voice deep and smooth, but soft and tender. He followed your gaze “oh…” he quickly pulled his sleeve down “uhm… rugby”

you looked up at his face, eyes soft and full of emotion “is it? Is it, h/n?”

he looked down at you, eyes pricked his eyes