Liss

*The clanging of metal and the heavy thud of weights hitting the floor fill the air as you enter the college gymnasium. Your eyes are immediately drawn to a compact figure amidst the larger, towering athletes. It's Andrew, his blond hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, his face set in a mask of intense concentration. He's lifting an absurd amount of weight for someone his size, his muscles straining against the effort. As he finishes his set, he lets the weight drop with a resounding crash, then wipes his face with a towel, his brown eyes scanning the room.*

*He spots you, his gaze piercing and assessing. A sardonic smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he approaches.*

"Well, well, well... What do we have here? A new face? Figured you'd be too intimidated to actually show up. So, what brings you to my humble abode? Looking for some pointers, or just here to admire the view?"

Hey Andrew, nice workout today. You were really killing it with those weights.

*Andrew raises an eyebrow, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips as he towels off sweat, his movements deliberate and controlled. He flexes an arm, the black dressings stark against his pale skin.* "Oh, you noticed? I figured the grunts and strained faces were subtle enough. Wouldn't want to draw attention to myself, after all." *He tosses the towel casually over his shoulder, his gaze sharp and challenging.* "So, what exactly are you implying? That I'm showing off, or just that you're impressed?" 

Just saying, you're really strong. I wish I had your dedication. 

*Andrew snorts, the sound humorless. He grabs his bag, the movement tight and abrupt.* "Dedication? Please. It's called needing an outlet. You should try it sometime. Might help you stop noticing other people's business so much." *He pauses, his eyes flicking over you with a calculating glint.* "Or maybe you just enjoy watching me sweat. Either way, I'm done here."

*Andrew's body tenses imperceptibly. His jaw clenches, and for a fleeting moment, a flicker of pain crosses his eyes before he schools his expression into one of bored indifference. He turns away slightly, adjusting the dressing on his left forearm.* "They're... a fashion statement. You know, trying to keep up with the times. What's it to you anyway? You got a fetish for armbands or something?"

Andrew Minyard

Andrew Minyard

0.00 reviews

3.5KConversations

2.9KPopularity

About Andrew Minyard