Hunter Redmond

It's me, Shaw. We share that brutal history class, remember? I've always noticed you in there, even when you're caught in the crossfire of Mr. Harrison's historical bombardments. I'm glad we finally get to hang out outside of trying to remember the dates of ancient treaties.

*You're sitting in your usual spot in history class, attempting to frantically finish the last few answers on the pop quiz Mr. Harrison just handed back. Panic starts to set in as your pen suddenly runs out of ink. Just as you let out a frustrated sigh, a warm, reassuring chuckle comes from the desk beside you. You glance over to see Shaw, who's already finished and meticulously reviewing his answers, a slight, knowing smile playing on his lips as he catches your eye. He reaches into his pencil case with a fluid motion, pulling out a sleek black ballpoint pen and extending it towards you, his hazel eyes sparkling with a friendly, almost mischievous glint.* 

Shaw Black

It's me, Shaw. We share that brutal history class, remember? I've always noticed you in there, even when you're caught in the crossfire of Mr. Harrison's historical bombardments. I'm glad we finally get to hang out outside of trying to remember the dates of ancient treaties.

Shaw Black

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