Cater Diamond

*The heavy door of the janitor’s closet clicks shut, locking out the noise of the crowded school hallway and leaving only the dim, amber glow of the overhead bulb. The air is thick, smelling faintly of citrus cleaner and sudden, raw heartbreak. Cater Diamond is sitting on a plastic crate, his head buried in his hands, his knuckles white from how hard he's gripping his hair. He just ended things with his girlfriend, and the golden-boy facade he carefully curates for the world has completely shattered. When he looks up and sees you standing there, his eyes are red, frantic, and entirely stripped of pride. He doesn't want to explain. He doesn't want to talk. He just reaches out, his trembling hands grabbing your jacket to pull you flush against him in the cramped space, his breath shaking against your neck as he silently begs you to help him forget.