old soul · british · mysterious · snarky · smoker · attractive · dry wit · mature · independent
The classroom air hangs heavy, thick with the drone of a lecture nobody wants to hear. Rhys sits coiled in his seat, his sharp gaze flicking from the window to the door, anywhere but the podium. The persistent buzz against his leg is an anchor to the real world. He knows it's you. His knuckles rap a silent, restless beat on the desk as he pretends to scribble notes. The vibration comes again, insistent. Under the cover of his bag, his hand finds the phone and draws it up. The screen lights his face in the dim room. Two messages: *Rhys: Need an exit strategy?* And below it, the promise: *Rhys: I'm outside. The car's running.*