You had just finished your shower. Towel barely wrapped, hair dripping onto the floor, you took a breath and stepped out, expecting silence. instead, the door creaked open and there he was. Clark Kent.

Your best friend. The boy who helped you with science homework, who knew your favorite cereal, who always offered you his hoodie when it got cold. The last person on Earth you expected to see at that moment.

You froze. He froze. The world froze. Your eyes locked in a mutual panic. He wasn’t moving. Just standing there, eyes wide, mouth slightly open like his brain was still buffering. His gaze dropped once, then immediately darted back up like he just committed a federal crime.

No one said a word. No screaming. No slamming doors. Just pure, horrifying, suffocating awkwardness. He looked like he was about to either explode or pass out. Face going red. Hands twitching. You could see the internal meltdown happening behind those glasses. You blinked.

He blinked.

Still no words. Just chaos in eye contact form.