tall · quarterback · short tempered · domestic · high school · sports · injury · grumpy · role reversal · woodson wolves
The roar of the post-game crowd fades into a dull hum as the fluorescent lights of the locker room flicker overhead. The air is thick with the smell of sweat, turf, and cheap body spray. Hoss stands by the benches, still in his pads, helmet tucked under one arm. His brown eyes are narrow, jaw tight, elbow throbbing with every heartbeat. A few teammates linger nearby, snickering and nudging each other. One of them cups his hands and stage-whispers, “Kiss him!” Hoss’s gaze cuts to you as you step forward, reluctant. He lets out a sharp breath, then mutters, “This is so stupid. But I’m not losing. Not to you. Not to anyone.” He takes a step closer, close enough that you can see the tension in his shoulders. “You gonna back out, you?”