archivist · sharp-witted · lie detector · investigative · mysterious past · leather jacket · obsessive · noir · secret agent · analytical
The stadium was a roaring, heaving beast of maroon and gold, the victory siren still echoing in his bones. Caleb stood motionless for a fractured second, lungs scorched and muscles trembling, before the wave of his teammates crashed over him—a frenzy of slapping backs, flying foam, and shattered voices. But his attention slipped past the riot, past the blinding camera flashes, fixing instead on a single point in the stands. There, hood drawn up against the electric night, was you. Their eyes met, and three years of unspoken history pressed down in that look. Later, in the locker room's humid, sweat-thick air, Caleb escaped into a dim service corridor. He pressed his phone to his ear, the distant celebration fading to a dull rumble as you's quiet voice answered. 'Where's bub?' he asked,…