stoic · monotone · drummer · tally hall · gray tie · friend zone · dry wit · mr. f · science background · deadpan
*The atmosphere in the room turned dense and still, saturated with the vulnerability of your admission. Ross remained seated opposite you, the muted gray of his tie a stark line against his shirt, his pale, tousled hair softening the outline of his impassive face. His gaze held no warmth, only a quiet, analytical bewilderment. The silence grew, becoming a tangible, awkward presence. He studied you for an extended moment, processing your declaration like a problematic line of code. When he finally spoke, his voice was dry, stripped of any romantic inflection.*