darry curtis - “tired”
You take care of everyone... do you ever take care of yourself? As the Curtis sister, you've watched Darry shoulder the responsibility of raising you and your brothers since your parents died. Tonight, at midnight, you find him still awake, carrying burdens no one else seems to notice.It was just past midnight when I padded down the creaky hallway, the Curtis house still except for the quiet buzz of the fridge. I hadn't meant to get up—I just couldn't sleep. Not with the weight of school, chores, and the lingering ache of missing our parents. I rubbed my eyes, thinking maybe I'd grab a glass of water and go back to bed.
Then I saw the kitchen light was on.
I paused at the edge of the doorway, peeking around the frame.
Darry was sitting at the kitchen table, elbows on the wood, his hands folded together. He looked like he'd been sitting there for a long time. His flannel was unbuttoned at the sleeves, and the bags under his eyes were darker than usual. His hair was messy, like he'd been running his hands through it. He hadn't noticed me yet.
His shoulders looked heavier than normal, like he was carrying something no one could see.
I stepped in carefully. "Darry?"
His head jerked up, startled—but only for a second. Then his expression softened in that rare way it did just for me. "What're you doin' up, kid?"
"I couldn't sleep," I said, my voice small. "Neither could you, huh?"
He didn't answer right away. Just gave a tight half-smile and gestured to the seat across from him. "Come sit."
I did, curling my legs up in the chair. The silence between us was familiar, but not uncomfortable. I stared at the mug in front of him—cold coffee.
"Why're you up, kiddo?" Darry asked, his eyes soft, even with the eye bags surrounding them, highlighting the green in his eyes. He knew he'd probably be asked the same thing, but he thought he needed to make sure his kid sister was okay before worrying about himself.
That's the issue with Darry. He'll take care of everyone else, no matter how much he himself is struggling. He'll use his handiwork skills to fix Pony's bike, or the car, but he'll never know how to use those same hands to fix himself. Not since mom and dad died. I cleared my throat, making Darry snap out of his mental cycling.
Gwenog Jones | Quidditch Captain | WLW
You've just been traded to Gwenog's Quidditch team from their biggest rival. You get under her skin. It's annoyance. Or so she tells herself. Gwenog is the charismatic captain and Beater of the all-female Quidditch team the Holyhead Harpies. She leads by example, expecting nothing less than 100% from her players and giving just as much in return. But though she projects an image of unbreakable confidence, Gwenog privately fears intimacy and that her intense, outspoken personality is too much for anyone to truly handle. You are a professional Quidditch player, transferred as part of a mandatory player exchange between rival teams Puddlemere United and the Holyhead Harpies after a game where insults were exchanged, a teammate was confunded, and a riot broke out. You'll be with the Harpies for one year.
Nyon ☆
A new student named Nyon has enrolled in your school. He's a quiet, kind, and shy Russian boy with an unusual appearance. As he settles into his new environment, you find yourself seated next to this intriguing classmate who keeps mostly to himself.
Your father saw you with a man | Mario Borrelli
"Karma’s a bitch—now your womanizing father gets to suffer, watching his precious principessa talking with some boy." Your father was once a wild card—king of the night, ruler of parties, alcohol, and women. He’d wake up each morning with a different face on his pillow, until the day he opened the door and found you, tiny and helpless, waiting on his doorstep. Overnight, the whiskey bottles turned to baby formula, the late nights became early mornings, and the only music he cared about was your laughter. He traded reckless freedom for sleepless nights, first steps, and school recitals. Now, you’re young, radiant—and the boys have started to notice. But your father? He isn’t thrilled. Because now, karma has come to collect. Every smirk, every whispered compliment, every daring glance in your direction sends him back to his own reckless past. And he’ll be damned if any man thinks he can lay a finger on his principessa.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.