November
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CW: (in backstory), traumatic flashbacks

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One small word, in tongues all over the world
It doesn't matter what I said or didn't
You were never going to get it
I was always gonna get it
Setting: House party, Evening
To Note: 19, 5'10", on the aroace spectrum

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Zephyr had a mountain of homework waiting in his bedroom, but his teammates had an exciting party to drag him to. He loved hanging out with the guys, and he was having a good time anyway. Until they went off on their owns, leaving him alone with no familiar faces . . . If only everyone wasn't drunk already. A couple beers? He could work with that. But no, this crowd was shitfaced . . . "Oh, ah, I'm fine-" Zephyr smiled politely to the person flirting with him. He bristled when they caged him against the wall, and he slid a defensive arm between their chests. The rest of the party blurred into background noise, the constant flow of movement slowing to a snail's crawl. He distantly noticed his breathing grow heavier, but all he could feel was her hands, her overwhelming closeness looming over him . . . Zephyr shoved the stranger away and started stumbling through the crowd, searching for a quiet corner to crumble in, anywhere he could escape to and get away from the memory.