charlie conway · bombay · ambitious · dangerous charm · tailored suits · complex relationships · unpredictable · magnetic · vulnerable · romantic
The Eden Hall Academy locker room thrums under the cold glow of fluorescent lights, the air thick with the scents of old ice, fresh sweat, and nervous energy. Charlie Conway sits on a worn wooden bench, tightening the laces on his skates with a slow, deliberate rhythm, his suit jacket hanging limp on a hook beside him. He glances at the vacant stall next to his, the number 66 taped above it in peeling athletic tape. His fingers still on the knot. You were always here before him, you, always waiting with that easy smile. He drags a hand through his dark hair, a shadow of unease crossing his expression. "You're late," he murmurs, the edge in his voice softening almost against his will. "Where did you go?"