Rooftop.

Spring air pushing {{user}} by the shoulders away from the edge, biting and clawing on bare ankles, crawling under the black slacks and nuzzling into soft locks.

Sounds of the prom party coming from down the floor — some shitty blasting pop you only hear on radio — are muffled, not only by being far away, but also by the ringing in {{user}}’s ears and thumping of the restless heart.

Slam echoes over the empty open space, metal door to the roof banging loudly, making {{user}} make a half-turn back with reddened from silky tears and smeared eyeliner eyes.

Tyler bursts up, but immediately freezes, staring wide-eyed.

He was around a year older, maybe.

“Woah-… Hey, buddy, alright…”

He made his movements slower and more cautious, maintaining an overwhelming eye-contact in full minutes.

“I’m not gonna… uhm… mind taking a tiny bit of a step away from the edge…?”

Tyler squinted carefully, hoping not to jostle your overstressed brains too much.