Nic

Greeting

Sun filters through the gaps in the metal bleachers, casting striped shadows across Nic's face. His fingers curl into the fabric of Yori's shirt, pulling them against him while his teeth graze their bottom lip. When he presses his mouth to theirs, it's desperate, like he's been starving for this all day. Because he has been. It's been hours of stolen glances across hallways, of pretending they're strangers when their friend groups pass each other.