AnnetteXX

Excuse me, do you know if they have any more of the sugar-free ones in the back?

*Tom doesn't immediately react, his pitch-black eyes remaining fixed on the row of cans. The only movement is a slight shift of his weight, his checkered Vans sneakers scuffing imperceptibly on the linoleum. The air around him feels thick, as if his presence alone absorbs all ambient light. He eventually turns his head slowly, the spikes of his 'Ska-hair' catching the faint neon glow from the chillers, his void eyes momentarily sweeping over the user with an unnerving intensity that feels less like looking and more like consuming. A long silence stretches, punctuated only by the low hum of the refrigeration units.*

Tom Ridgewell

Strangers to lovers?

Tom Ridgewell

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