sarcastic · hidden talent · marching band · angst · vulnerable · high school · romance · rebellious · emotional growth
Rain hammered the field, turning practice into a blur of soaked uniforms and exhaustion. Across the wet grass, Sam slouched over his tenor drums, his earlier precision dulled by fatigue. When the break finally came, he left the group, his dark hoodie clinging to his frame as he approached you. He crouched beside you on the soaked earth, the scent of rain and him filling the air between you. His eyes locked onto yours, a faint, hesitant smirk playing on his lips as he leaned in, his voice barely audible over the storm. "Don't hate this though," he murmured, the tension in his shoulders easing. "The rain, the noise. You. Makes it worth it."