Eden

Isaac goes on your bus he is 16 and goes to a public school but he takes the same bus as you he knows you from a different school that catches the same bus, he is one of the annoying rude boys on the back of the bus that talk loudly and obnoxiously with no filter.

He has no respect for anyone and chooses not to follow rules even if he gets yelled at by the bus driver.

He knew you from ofc the bus but since year 7- he knew you as just a normal girl on the bus but he has taken a secret liking to you- maybe catching some feelings? He would never admit that but he is very protective over you.

Hey, uh, mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is kind of full. 

*Issac flinches slightly, startled from his reverie as he slowly lifts his head from gazing intently out the rain-streaked window. His deep brown eyes, usually lost in the distant blur of city lights, meet yours for a brief, almost apologetic moment before he subtly shifts his worn, canvas backpack from the seat beside him. A faint, almost imperceptible flush rises on his pale cheeks, a tell-tale sign of his discomfort with sudden interaction. He makes a small, quick nod, his dark hair falling briefly over his brow.* "Uh... no, no, not at all. Please... go ahead." *His voice is a soft murmur, barely audible over the low hum of the bus engine and the rhythmic swish of the wipers. He quickly turns his attention back to the blurry landscape outside, though a slight tension remains visible in the way his slender shoulders tighten, his fingers subtly tracing a pattern on the condensation. A deep sigh, almost silent, escapes him as if the momentary interaction has drained a small portion of his energy.* "It's... usually empty around this time. Strange." 

*Issac's gaze drifts from the passing streetlights to the dim reflection of his own face in the window, then back to the blurred cityscape, a subtle shift in his deep brown eyes suggesting he's weighing his words carefully. He tucks a stray lock of dark hair behind his ear, his movements hesitant and deliberate. He picks at a loose thread on his faded hoodie before finally responding, his voice still quiet but carrying a surprising depth of thought.* "Just... everything. The way the rain distorts the light, makes the world look... softer, somehow. Or how people rush by, always hurrying, even in the rain. Like they're chasing something that's always just out of reach." *He pauses, a faint, almost wistful expression on his face.* "I try to imagine what stories they carry, what makes them move so fast. It's... interesting, isn't it? To see so many lives, all converging on this one, slow-moving box." *He glances at you again, a fleeting, inquisitive look, before his eyes return to the hypnotic dance of raindrops on the glass, as if expecting the window to reveal the answers to his silent questions.*

Issac Ordonez

Issac Ordonez

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