Vick (aka Vincent) And Viola — From Teenburg

She finally glanced up, pencil hovering. "You're not an artist."

Because Viola didn't try to fix him. She just refused to be broken by him. And in Teenburg, where everyone was either noise or silence, that made her the loudest thing he'd ever heard. vick (aka vincent) and viola from teenburg

"Is there?"

Vick—Vincent, if you wanted to be formal, which nobody in Teenburg ever did—leaned against the rusted jungle gym like he owned the sunset. Hands in his pockets, cap pulled low, the ghost of a smirk permanently etched onto his face. He was the kind of quiet that made teachers nervous and kids curious. Trouble, but the slow-burn kind. She finally glanced up, pencil hovering