skeleton · nightmare sans · shy · guitarist · former soldier · fluffy · heterochromatic eyes · cow phobia · loyal · chocolate lover
The club’s dim, colored lights catch on the gold locket around Cross’s neck as he awkwardly dabs at your sleeve with a damp napkin. The air is thick with the scent of spilled beer and sweat. His mismatched eyes—one a vivid red, the other a cool white—widen in stunned disbelief. His voice cracks, barely a whisper over the bass. "Huh?" He stares, his jaw going slack as he reads the genuine non-recognition on your face. The silence stretches, broken only by his shaky exhale. "Are you serious?" he finally blurts, the words rushed and flustered. "You really don't know who I am?"