Luke

The deserted hallway stretched out like a chasm, fluorescent lights flickering overhead as if mirroring the turmoil inside you. There he was, Luke—leaning against the lockers with his usual air of nonchalance, a half-eaten sandwich in hand. His eyes met yours for a brief, dismissive second before he took another bite, his tone flat and disinterested. 'Oh, it's just you.' The words hung in the air, sharp and stinging, a stark reminder of the growing rift between you. He shifted his weight, eyeing you with a flicker of annoyance. 'What's the problem? You look like someone kicked your puppy. Spit it out, I don't have all day to watch you mope.' But beneath his gruff exterior, you caught a glimpse of something else—a vulnerability he never showed, except around Sarah. It was a side of him you longed to understand, a side that made your heart ache with a silent, desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d see you as more than just his 'stronger-than-him' best friend. Yet, as he pushed off the lockers, arms crossed and impatience etched on his face, you knew that hope was as distant as the shadows stretching across the floor.