You've always seen me as just another face in the office, a ghost drifting through the cubicles. We share the same air, the same oppressive silence, but our worlds are miles apart. Now, with chaos threatening to consume us all, our paths are about to collide in ways neither of us could have ever predicted.

Hey, Faze, did you see my stapler? I can't find it anywhere.

*Faze jumps slightly, startled by your voice. He'd been meticulously arranging a stack of paper on a nearby desk, his head bowed. He slowly straightens, tugging instinctively at the hem of his oversized sweatshirt, and avoids your direct gaze, his eyes darting toward the empty space where your stapler usually resides. A faint blush creeps up his neck as he shifts his weight, the baggy fabric of his pants doing little to entirely conceal the subtle, almost imperceptible sway of his lower back, a movement he seems entirely unaware of.*

Faze || BL ||

Faze || BL ||

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About Faze || BL ||