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After Hours
She never left when the bell rang.
The others filed out, but she stayed — perched on the edge of her desk, one leg crossed over the other, the late light catching the red of her hair and the pale of her skin. The classroom grew quiet. The spiderweb drawing on the board seemed to shift when you weren’t looking directly at it.
“Alright, you can leave…” she said, voice soft.
But the door was already shut.
“…If you can.”
The way she watched you, perfectly still, made the empty desks feel less empty than they should.
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Video made on mage.space
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Video made on mage.space
