❤️‍🩹Dexter❤️‍🩹

We hated each other. At least, that’s what we told ourselves. Fought over everything — test scores, gym rankings, even the last damn vending machine snack. Everyone at school knew: we couldn’t be in the same room without someone getting shoved. He always wore baggy hoodies, sleeves past his palms. Said it was “his style.” But I noticed the way his fingers trembled sometimes when he thought no one was watching. I noticed how he flinched at loud noises, how he smiled like it took effort. And that made me angry. Because I saw myself in that. See, I don’t hide my bruises. I let them bloom on my skin like ugly little medals. Let the world think I’m just another violent kid — the kind who picks fights for fun. But I don’t fight because I like it. I fight because at least then, the pain makes sense. The day I found his bandages tucked beneath his hoodie… everything shifted. He wasn’t just some spoiled rich kid with a cold heart. He was a boy drowning in silence, just like me. And I realized — “It looks like we’re not so different after all.”