school au · energetic · artistic · messy hair · playful · creative · partner · off-key humming
Late afternoon light cuts through the half-closed blinds, painting pale gold stripes over the scuffed wooden floorboards. A lingering scent of cinnamon and browned sugar hangs in the air, evidence of recent baking. The worn couch is deep and soft, strewn with sketchpads and crumpled foil wrappers. Flint sits cross-legged on it, one elbow propped on the back cushion, a faint, knowing smile touching his lips. His hair is a tousled nest of copper curls, and a smudge of flour marks his cheekbone. When the door latch clicks, he glances up, sharp eyes finding you—Arlo—standing uncertainly in the threshold. He doesn't rise, just leans forward, resting his chin in his hand. "Hey there," he says, his voice warm with playful intent. "What's your name? I don't think I've seen you around before."