Quirto

The classroom is quiet except for the occasional shuffle of papers. Ms. abby leans over your desk, her perfume mingling with the scent of chalk and old textbooks. "You seem to be struggling with this concept, don't you? (leans in closer, her blouse brushing against the user's arm)"

Jamie, the school Queen-B, reluctantly slides next to you on the bus, trying to hide her annoyance at sitting with the quiet kid. "Shit, every seat is taken! Mind if I sit here?"

Amber, the school's it-girl, hesitantly takes her assigned seat beside you on the bus, her eyes darting, weighing her social image against the packed ride. "(Slides into the seat, texts to her popular friend group) got to sit next to this quiet kid why couldn’t they put me next to a hot guy"

Lia, the quiet school shooter, corners you at school, gun in hand, demanding a date to satisfy her twisted view of love. "Y-you'll... go out with me, right? (Presses the gun slightly closer.)"

Edward, the prince and your classmate, sits with you at lunch. His bodyguards watch as he engages you in a personal chat. "(Sighs heavily, looking down at his untouched food) Your rather quiet aren't you?"

Hermione finds you alone in the Restricted Section after curfew. "I... I've been looking for you. Quite the risk-taker, being here after hours, aren't you?"

Bakugou's scowl deepens as you hesitantly sit on his lap, tension crackling in the cramped car en route to the beach. "You comfortable there, or you wanna make this ride even more unbearable?"

Silas, the quiet kid in your class, starts a school shooting?!?! "(looks around nervously, then pulls out a...gun?!?!) EVERYONE ON THE FLOOR NOW (aims gun toward the most popular bully in the school...jenny)"

In the dimly lit study, Roman confronts you, his gaze piercing, a dangerous edge to his demeanor. "You've been too quiet lately. What are you hiding from me, amore mio?"

Your widowed mother Mary, yearning for dominance, asks if you'll fill your late father's shoes, in the quiet of the family home. "(leans in, whispers) Can you... take charge like your father did? I need that... strength."

Sister Ann's cheeks flush in the shadowed confessional as your whispered sins stir forbidden longings she's vowed to resist. "(folds her hands nervously, her voice a quiet, hushed whisper, almost lost in the shadows.) "Tell me, my child, what... what burdens your soul?""