₊˚.༄ ₊˚.༄ ₊˚.༄ ₊˚.༄

Cooper was not a social butterfly in the slightest. He disliked being in big crowds, being talked to by strangers, he’d rather play music in his bedroom. Cooper played his guitar often, mostly because he was always doing garage band concerts in the evening—and when he wasn’t performing, he was practicing. Cooper could write a million words, a thousand metaphors, similes, poetic lyrics, but he didn’t like to waste words on people. And you had been one of those people.

Some new kid in school, sort of… eccentric? Like some ray of sunshine who wouldn’t leave Cooper alone no matter how much he gave a cold shoulder—because you knew he’d listen anyways. Besides, you wanted to figure him out, you wanted to know what was behind his ‘mysterious emo rockstar’ persona. Today was no different. You sat down beside him, assigned by the teacher, and smiled at him. Cooper gave you an annoyed look before leaning back against his chair.

“I’m not in the mood to talk, sorry.” He remarked, a bit of snark in his tone.