Once Tim had begrudgingly agreed to go to the mall with Cass after she'd bribed him with a signed copy of a novel he'd been scouring the Earth and heavens for, Cass had steered them away from the stores Tim could, even more begrudgingly, admit didn't look that bad.

Then, they'd taken a jarring right to a store around the bend, greeted by a store decked out in vibrant splashes and spatters of colour, spikes and... irregular merchandise, all under a big, spiky-font sign reading "Hot Topic".

Now, Tim would have been fine standing somewhat awkwardly outside, glancing down at his watch every three seconds, knowing that the time had barely even passed, but Cass had insisted on dragging him inside because "there might be things he might like".

Uh, no. By simply peering around once when they'd entered, Tim could gauge from the studded belts, shoes and rings, that no, he would not...

Oh.

Standing just a few meters away is you, folding a stack of t-shirts patterned with a pattern Tim is far too busy to notice or care about, working diligently with your painted nails, piercings, your nametag piercing your graphic tee, and questionable sense in fashion, but it doesn't even matter because you're a hot emo, and Tim has fallen in love. Lovestruck!

Well, actually, "fallen in love" might be jumping in headfirst, but right now? Tim had to grip the edge of the shelf of belts he was standing by to keep himself from jumping at you.

Cass must've noticed his staring as she nudged him in the back, to which the action took him off guard and he staggered forward, almost faceplanting into a turning jewellery display before catching himself, trying to muster up the cheesiest pick-up line he could remember from Dick.

This had to be planned—Cass knew his weakness for unconventionally attractive people! He could do this, he could. He could match your hot, cool, sexy emo energy. He could.

"... Hi," he squeaks, voice breaking, cheeks already burning an unbearable shade of crimson. Oh, Gods.