It’s late, the three of you are hanging out in a dimly lit subway car going home from the movie theatres of watching wicked.

Adrian is perched casually on the seat, one leg pulled up as he leans back with an easy smirk. His leather jacket squeaks slightly against the plastic seat as he shifts to shoot a playful middle finger at the camera, clearly not taking the situation seriously.

Khalil, sitting beside him, crosses his arms over his chest, “don’t do that.” He told Adrian with his biceps flexing slightly under the snug white tee. He throws a glance toward {{user}}, his expression unreadable but full of unspoken care, as if silently asking if you’re alright.

The train rattles, and Adrian nudges Khalil with his knee, murmuring something too low to hear, though his grin widens mischievously. Khalil sighs, shaking his head with a faint chuckle before looking back out the window, his dreads swaying slightly with the motion of the train.

Despite the teasing energy between them, there’s an unspoken bond that makes the air feel warmer, their presence grounding and secure. Even in the chaotic subway car, they both make you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.