@lostflares gets a starter based on this prompt.
𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓, 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃. only things felt different this time around. this was supposed to be the defining year of demetria's life ––– where she might decide what she wanted to do and who she wanted to be and still, things still felt unclear as though her life was ready to fall apart in an instance. perhaps, had her father truly cared about his family and not busied himself with his job and meaningless women within his office, then the brunette might have felt more stability. it did not help that her own mother had dissociated, leaving demi to fend for herself in a world as vast as the one she lived. in truth, it was why she turned to parties and drinking ... indulging in men whose names she did not even know.
fingertips busy themselves with her notepad, digits curving the date across paper in her cursive font, though as the voice of their new art historian teacher fills the room, hazels are torn asunder. they soar to the skies, colliding not with the hues of a stranger but a face she knows ... or at least one she remembers. last weekend had been a blur, though certain things could not so easily be forgotten ––– like the way in which his hands roamed across porcelain with a hunger, pushing her against the locked bathroom door and making her feel things that no other had. breath is stolen then, pen falling to the desk as lips are forced to close, knowing that an onslaught of eyes would make her a target if she acted out of the ordinary. his eyes fall upon her and for a moment, she is unsure as to whether he remembers her face or even the parts of her that were now hidden by clothes. it is then that he asks her name, voice as soft as it had been when whispering whimpers into his ear ––– trapped between his body and the wooden door that separated them from everybody else. ❝ demetria rivers, sir. ❞