1960s high school · mlm
The fluorescent lights of the 1960s hallway buzz with a low, persistent hum as Whizzer leans his tall frame against the metal locker next to you's. His shadow stretches long across the scuffed linoleum. The air hangs thick and silent in the wake of the slammed door. His dark eyes, usually bright with easy confidence, now hold a soft, apologetic weight. He raises a hand in a tentative, gentle wave, his expression softening as he takes in the visible distress on you's face. Despite his earlier, careless flirtation, his posture is now all earnest vulnerability, hoping to close the space he opened between them.